


Wash The Sins Away

by Shiniko1898



Series: There Are No Miracles Here [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action, Angst, F/M, OC is done with Shane’s shit, OC just wants to be left alone with her dogs, OC thinks everyone sucks, Slow Burn, and kids - Freeform, and moonshine, like the slowest of burns, too bad that’s not happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 85
Words: 167,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiniko1898/pseuds/Shiniko1898
Summary: The universe decided life didn’t suck enough so Coretta Ann Evans ends up in a run down shack with her dogs and her sons in the zombie apocalypse. All she wants to do is keep her boys alive and be left alone. Too bad she ends up having to deal with a bunch of idiots and a pissy redneck that would have fit right in at her trailer park
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s), Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes
Series: There Are No Miracles Here [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190375
Comments: 596
Kudos: 349





	1. Chapter 1

Coretta Ann Evans has dealt with more than her fair share of bullshit in her twenty-six years of life. She hardly bats an eyelash when new bullshit is added to that ever growing pile. The fuckin’ apocalypse might well take the cake though. It’s definitely right up there with her piece of shit daddy beating her baby brother to death when he was fifteen. Definitely tied for first place. 

_Zombies._ Fuckin’ zombie apocalypse. As if the world couldn’t get shittier, it had to add _dead people walking_ to the fuckin’ mix. Coretta decides this is the final nail in the coffin for the good Christian faith her poor momma had tried to instill in her and her brothers. Clearly, God don’t give a shit about his creations if he’s real. 

Coretta is more pissed than scared. Has been since her fuckin’ husband didn’t pick the damn phone up after eighty damn calls when shit hit the fan at their shitty fuckin’ trailer park. She’s driving her old red pick up, white knuckling the wheel, to the damn moonshine shack that doubles as her husband’s least favorite hunting cabin near Senoia. Closest one to Atlanta with nothing but woods and swamp and farmland around it. She’s got the damn truck loaded down with clothes, gas cans, water, guns, ammo, her compound bow, the dogs, and her sons. Mason and Keston are wisely keeping quiet where they’ve squeezed into the passenger seat together. Dogs in the back seat, hand gun in her driver’s side door, little .22 caliber rifle in her older boy’s hands. It’ll be fucking fine. They’ll be fucking fine. Just have to get to the damn shack and they’ll be fine. 

Coretta ignores the dead people shambling around the roads, just drives by them like they aren’t there. She doesn’t give a fuck about the fact she recognizes some of them. They ain’t her fuckin’ problem. She ignores the bombs that fall on Atlanta in the distance. Ignores the groups of living people running on foot. She doesn’t give a fuck. It’s her and her boys. That’s all that matters. Anything and anyone else is just a fuckin’ side note. 

Getting to the highway is fuckin’ easy. She’s driving like hell itself is on her ass and her boys don’t say a word about it. They’re smart like that. They know when their momma isn’t interested in chit chat. They know when silence is worth their weight in fuckin’ gold. She curses when she gets to the pile up of cars and people and corpses. The dogs are in the back seat growling and her boys crawl into floor of the car to hide as she says fuck it and goes off the side of the damn road. She doesn’t have the time or interest to deal with what’s quickly becoming a godforsaken graveyard. She just needs to get to the damn dirt road that she can take to the shack. 

An hour and a half drive takes three fucking hours. Coretta takes it in stride. So long as they get where they’re going, she can deal with it. It’s midnight when they arrive at the place. She tells her boys to stay in the truck and grabs the handgun. She didn’t see dead people walking in the woods when they turned off onto the long dirt road, but she’s not taking chances. Fuck _that._ It’s silent. No sounds of people living or dead around. 

Coretta takes that as a good damn sign. Sure enough, when she unlocks the shack, it’s clear of people. It’s a shitty place. One big room with a tiny kitchen area, a little table, a couple chairs, and one queen sized mattress with a bunch of blankets shoved in a corner. She never understood why the fuck Wade went and put a queen sized mattress in this place, but she sure as shit isn’t complaining now.

Satisfied, Coretta unloads everything out of the back of the truck. Gets the clothes. Gets the gas cans. Gets the guns and ammo. Gets everything out that’s not a living thing first and puts it in the shack. She grabs the dogs one by one and drags them inside too. Lucy and Red and Molly-dog. Two good hunting dogs and the idiot pitbull Mason had found in a ditch and begged her to let him keep the damn thing. He’d have gone into hysterics if she’d even suggested leaving them behind. Especially Molly-dog. Mason would have gone fuckin’ nuclear if she’d even thought it. 

She gets her boys next. Hisses sharply at them to stay quiet and picks Keston up and puts him on her hip. Four years old is a bit old in her mind to be carrying him around like this, but it’s quicker than having the kid stumbling in the dark. Mason carries his little .22 rifle behind her as she takes them inside and locks them in. 

Coretta doesn’t relax until she’s pulled the curtains over the dirty windows and put the jars of moonshine where her boys can’t reach. Mason watches her with sharp blue eyes— her eyes— as she checks and double checks the door. Little Keston is rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding the back of his big brother’s shirt with the other. The dogs are all sniffing the floor, Red flops down first near the wood stove and goes to sleep. At least someone isn’t fuckin’ worried. 

“We’re gonna stay here for awhile, got it? We’re gonna have a few new rules. No yellin’ or cryin’. None of that. Noise is _bad,_ y’all hear me?” Coretta waits until both her boys have nodded to keep going, “Good. Y’all ain’t gonna talk to anyone who ain’t me, y’all gonna hide if you even think you see another person. Mason, when I’m huntin’, you keep your brother safe. You shoot _anything_ that’s on two legs, got it? In the head. You’re a good shot and I need you to do that if I ain’t around. You don’t let anyone or anything so much as get near you or Keston.”

“Got it, Momma. I won’t,” Mason’s chin just out as he looks up at her as fiercely as he can. Coretta doesn’t like telling her eight year old son to shoot people, but the world’s gone to hell in a hand-basket and she’s seen enough of people to know the dead aren’t gonna be the biggest threat in this fucked new world. 

“Momma? Where’s daddy?” Keston’s big brown eyes stare up at her all hopeful and confused at the same time. She’s so fuckin’ pissed at Wade for not being here, her boys need their daddy as much as she does. Can’t fuckin’ _believe_ he went on a damn hunting trip and didn’t tell her where he was going. 

“Daddy is huntin’, baby. When he gets home, he’ll see the note I left and come here, don’t you worry,” Coretta is gonna be fuckin’ pissed if Wade doesn’t get his ass here quick. She ain’t in the mood for whatever sweet little apology he concocts either. She fuckin’ _told_ him she didn’t want him going hunting this week. Had _begged_ him to stay home. They’d needed him home, not dickin’ ‘round in the woods with her dumbass junkie older brother. Jesse best not be with Wade when he finally gets here either. She don’t need him methed out near her kids. She’ll feed him to the fuckin’ dead herself if that happens. 

She sighs and points at the mattress on the floor, “Y’all go to bed. It’s been a long day and y’all need to sleep.”

When Mason opens his mouth to argue she cuts him off, “Do _not_ argue with me, boy. Not today. Y’all gonna sleep and y’all not gonna make a peep. _Now.”_

Mason’s mouth closes with a click of his teeth. He knows damn well that tone means he’ll get put over her knee if he tries to argue. Keston knows too. Coretta may hate having to use that tone, but she needs them to just fuckin’ _listen._ She don’t need Mason’s sass anytime soon. They can’t be disobeying anymore. It’s listen or they get killed. Coretta would rather them alive than happy with her. 

She waits for them to crawl onto the mattress and get under the covers. Waits for Molly-dog to clamber up and over Keston to sleep between Mason and the wall. Waits for Lucy to lay down by the door, before she loads the .30 deer rifle and leans it against the wall by the mattress and settles herself between the boys and the door. 

Coretta listens to her boy’s breathing and the quiet snoring of the dogs as she lays on that shitty mattress on the floor. Listens to the wind blowing through the trees as she tries to get some form of rest. The world has gone to shit and Coretta doesn’t sleep a wink that first night as she waits for things to get worse. Things _always_ get fuckin’ worse, after all. Why would the end of times be any different?


	2. Chapter 2

Coretta decides real quick to only use her compound bow for hunting. They only have so much ammo and she sure as shit ain’t wasting it on rabbits and squirrels. Or Corpses. She can make new arrows, she can’t fuckin’ make new bullets. Bullets are for when shit hits the fan and running ain’t an option. 

She finds her tolerance for nasty shit is skyrocketing. Killing Corpses is fuckin’ nasty. It smells and its messy and Coretta cannot fuckin’ stand the noises they make. Its not hard though. She learns that well enough. Just don’t get close while shooting them and she’s fine. Her close calls are when they get too close and she has to use a buck knife on them. Coretta may find the Corpses disgusting, but it takes her all of a week to figure out Corpses don’t mess with a person if they only smell rot instead of living people. So she starts killing the damn things and dragging them back to her shack. Makes herself a nice little perimeter of Corpses as a way to encourage them to go elsewhere. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. She strings up cans and bottles too, just to make sure there’s no surprises and she can sleep a little easier at night. 

Her biggest issue is leaving her boys alone. She fuckin’ hates doing that. She knows Mason is her and Wade’s boy through and through and can damn well take care of himself and Keston while she’s hunting, but it still worries her. Still makes her cut hunting short more days than not to go back to them. It makes things difficult. They need to fuckin’ eat. They need her hunting. They need water boiled. They need things cleaned. They need to be watched. She can’t fuckin’ do everything, but she has to. Mason, at least, starts helping around the shack. Takes care of Keston when she’s cooking their food. Helps clean clothes while she boils water. Helps and helps and helps. Mason is a smart kid. She’s always known that. A little survivor. She knows he’s figuring out how bad things are. That they’re fuckin’ serious and they can’t be playing. Coretta’s worry is only pacified by that fact and Molly-dog’s obsessive overprotective streak in regards to the boys. 

Rabbits and squirrels and frogs and fish and berries. It’s a lean diet. One Coretta never fuckin’ thought she’d be relying on after getting the fuck outta her daddy’s house. It’s one she’s familiar enough with, though. It’s how she survived summer breaks when her daddy was on a bender. Had to eat something. Have to do it again. Her boys don’t complain, thank the fuckin’ lord. They’re plenty used to eating shit like this from Wade’s hunting. 

She skips meals more often than she lets on. Coretta makes sure both her boys eat their fill before she touches the food. Eats what’s left over then drinks water or smokes a cigarette to take the edge off any lingering hunger, God fuckin’ bless her husband for the stupid amount of cigarettes he stashed in the shack. The dogs eat too. She makes sure of that. They get the guts from everything she kills. High protein diet, she’s pretty sure that’s what the fuckin’ vet woulda called it. 

Her boys look like feral children real fuckin’ quick. Mason cut all the damn sleeves off his shirts like his Daddy and Coretta cussed over it while figuring out what to do with the fabric left over. Rags and bandages. Or replacement toilet paper when that shit runs out. She ain’t using fuckin’ leaves to wipe her ass. She’s already accepted she has to use a fuckin’ outhouse during the day while pissing in a fuckin’ _bucket_ at night, she’s not using fuckin’ leaves on top of that. She has to take the boys to the damn creek when she wants to bath them. She just has them do that when she needs to wash the damn clothes. Two bathes a week isn’t her fuckin’ idea of a good time, but it’s better than fuckin’ nothing. Still, the boys look wild. Mason especially. Kid looks like he’s trying to scare people. At least little Keston doesn’t get mud in his hair. Coretta doesn’t get how the four year old is cleaner than the eight year old, but she doesn’t fuckin’ worry about it. As long as they’re alive and healthy, a little mud won’t kill them. 

She takes Red and Lucy hunting with her every day. Fuckin’ hound dogs bay at everything and she can’t have them getting all excited and calling the fuckin’ Corpses to the shack when she’s not there. She’s just damn happy they’re good tracking dogs. Wade trained them personally to track and tree just about anything. Only reason she has them and he doesn’t is that he went hog hunting or some shit with Jesse and the coonhounds aren’t hog dogs. Setting them after wild hogs is a good way to get them killed. 

She doesn’t touch the moonshine. She wants to. She really fuckin’ wants to most nights, but she doesn’t. Drinking during the apocalypse sounds like a terrible fuckin’ idea. If it was just her, maybe. But it ain’t just her. She’s got two little boys. She can’t afford a slip up. So the jars of shine stay put away. Much as she’d love to feel that familiar fuckin’ burn, now sure ain’t the damn time. Maybe when Wade gets here, she can relax a bit. Once she’s done chewing his damn ass out, anyway. 

Coretta squats by the door to the shack, skinning squirrels with Mason while Keston practice with the child sized compound bow Wade had gotten the boys for last Christmas. She keeps a sharp eye on the treeline while the dogs eat the squirrel guts she tosses their way. Two weeks of being here and she ain’t seen one living person. It’s fuckin’ eerie. Makes her feel like she’s waiting for her daddy to come home drunk and pissed off all over again. She fuckin’ hates that feeling. Wade needs to get his ass here quick. She’s sick of the waiting game and so are the boys. At least Keston’s having a good time with that kid’s bow. Maybe he’ll hit a fuckin’ target in a decade or so. 


	3. Chapter 3

They’ve been at the shack a month first time Coretta decides to go to the highway and see if that pile up left anything worth keeping behind. They need medicine, Coretta may know a couple fuckin’ natural remedies, but she’d rather actual fuckin’ medicine when her kids eventually get sick. They needs clothes too, with sleeves that Mason will not fuckin’ cut off or she’ll tan his hide. Canned food would be nice too. Coretta can think of a million things she could use. Fuck, she’ll siphon gas if she can. Three full gas cans ain’t gonna last forever. Coretta figures she can go shopping at highway looting couture now. Since she doubts any fuckin’ cops gonna stop her. 

Mason tries to argue he should go too, “Momma, Daddy said I’m suppose ta take care of ya when he’s not ‘round. I gotta go with ya.”

“Mason, I’ve done told you a million times, your only job is keepin’ you and Keston safe when I ain’t around. You’re gonna stay here with Keston and Molly-dog and keep safe,” Coretta gives him a stern look, “Hell, baby, teach Keston to skin those rabbits I got if you’re so bored, but you ain’t coming with me.”

“But, Momma—“

“No buts. I don’t wanna hear it. You’re stayin’ here and that’s the end of it. You hear me?” Coretta is entirely unbothered by her older boy’s bright blue eyes glaring up at her. He’s got her temper, but he knows damn well when she’s not gonna budge. He knows better than to push his luck. 

“Yes, Momma,” Mason grumbles out, “Keston! Let’s skin some bunnies! I’ll make ya a rabbit’s foot if ya don’t mess up!”

Coretta grins a little at the thrilled look on Keston’s face. He worships his older brother, and anything Mason does for him is treated like it’s the best damn thing the world’s ever seen. He’s all smiley and bouncing as he runs over to the dead rabbits, “Promise?”

Mason blinks down at his brother as Coretta returns to getting what she needs for her little trip, “‘Course, Dum-dum. When I ever lie to ya?”

Keston’s face wrinkles up in deep thought, “Ya told me Daddy shot the Easter bunny.”

“‘Course he did. Ain’t you seen how big that rabbit was? That was the Easter bunny,” Mason rolls his eyes and tosses one of the rabbits to Keston. 

Coretta takes that as her sign to go. Both boys are busy now and she don’t wanna be out there at night. That just spells trouble. Taking the truck means using gas, but she wants as much shit as she can get. Ain’t like anyone else gonna come ‘round to claim it. Might as well take what she can. 

She loads the hound dogs in the back and heads out, her boys in the rear view mirror, Mason seemingly doing his damndest to patiently teach Keston to skin. There’s a couple things that need skinning. Should eat well tonight. Especially if she can find some canned food or something. That’d be fuckin’ amazing. 

It don’t take long to get there. Don’t take long to see the disaster zone the highway’s become. Don’t take her long to accept she’s gonna be killing a lot of Corpses today. That’s fine. Long as she don’t gotta deal with people, she don’t give a shit. She parks the truck in the tree line. Leaves Lucy and Red in the cab and grabs her bow and quiver. Checks she’s got the old buck knife and goes to work. Puts down ten Corpses before she gets an idea. Wade used to steal cars when they were idiot teenagers. Never did get caught. She knows damn well how to set a car alarm off and noise is a damn dinner bell to Corpses. She picks one of the fancy ass rich people cars a ways down from where she wants to be. Breaking the window does the fuckin’ trick. The alarm is blaring and she takes off before the damn Corpses can so much as twitch. Circles back through the trees to her truck to wait for them to get busy. Don’t take long before she’s satisfied most of the nasty fuckers are busy with the car alarm. So long as she’s quiet and don’t move too fast, she bets it’ll be fine. The car she set off is a long ways from her truck after all. She ain’t stupid enough to set one off close by. She’d like to see her boys again, after all. 

Coretta works quick. Checks car trucks first. Finds clothes and shoes like someone wanted to go on a fuckin’ vacation. Not even sensible fuckin’ shoes. Who the fuck packs stilettos for a goddamn apocalypse? She finds fuckin’ gold when she finds a black beat up old pick up. Makes quick work of the Corpses stuck in the seatbelts and starts grabbing shit outta it. Clearly, these people had the right damn idea. Sucks for them they couldn’t execute it. They got crates of canned food. Even got ammo and guns. Coretta is fuckin’ giggling with how happy she is about this. It’s a fuckin’ apocalyptic Christmas. Fuck yeah. She hauls it all back. Not about to leave a single thing behind. Finders keepers and all that good shit. 

She starts picking through the trucks and RVs since that seems to be where the fuck it’s at. She find toilet paper in one and grins like a damn loon over it. Finds whisky in another. Takes a while but she finds a few first aid kits and a ziplock bag of generic medicines and figures she’s got what she came for. Ain’t no point hunting around for more shit today. Not when that siren is still drawing Corpses to it. Fuck that shit. She can always come back. Ain’t like it’s hard to get here. 

The dogs are all keyed up when she gets back in the truck. Growling and baying at the sound of the damn car alarm. Coretta gives them a sharp command to shut up as she turns the truck towards home. That noise ain’t necessary. They aren’t on a trail and she ain’t hunting. Lucy and Red need to keep quiet. Don’t need Corpses trying to eat the damn dogs. 

Getting back to the shack she has to grin at the sight of her boys. Mason’s carrying Keston around on his back with Molly-dog chasing them around. It’s cute. Her boys are fuckin’ adorable. Least they can still have fun from time to time. Those rabbits better be fuckin’ skinned though. She wants to start tanning the hides. See if she can’t make clothes or some shit with them. She’ll need a deer or something though for most of that shit. Rabbits don’t got much skin on ‘em. Maybe gloves. Maybe hats. She don’t know. She’ll figure it out. 

“Mason! Keston! Help unload!” Coretta calls. She’d feel worse about ending play time but they need to get their fuckin’ groceries inside. Can’t be leaving the valuables out for people to see. Might encourage thieving. The boys jump to attention and proudly declare they can carry everything since they’re big, strong boys. Coretta laughs when they find out how heavy the boxes of canned food are. Poor babies got some growing left to do before they can handle those. 

She’s feeling good that night. Her babies are well fed, she’s well fed, the dogs are all fed. No Corpses came calling today and no people came ‘round. Coretta can feel some of the tension side outta her. It’s been a damn good day and She’s damn happy about it. Curled up with her boys on that shitty mattress, she has the easiest sleep she’s had since shit hit the fan. 


	4. Chapter 4

Coretta doesn’t say it, but she has a feeling she’s not going to be seeing Wade again. Six weeks and he’s not around. She knows if he were alive, he’d have gone straight home. Knows he would have hauled ass out here as soon as he saw the note she’d left on the fridge. Coretta’s no fool. She knows that he’s not coming. Knows if he were gonna be here, he’d have shown up by now. She doesn’t have time to cry over him though. She can’t do that. She’s got her boys to take care of and crying over their daddy ain’t gonna keep them fed, ain’t gonna keep them alive. So, she lets him go. Coretta puts her husband out of her mind and keeps living. Ain’t nothing else she can fuckin’ do, after all. Chasing a ghost ain’t an option with two boys hanging off her skirt. 

She knows Mason is worried. More than once she watches him watching the dirt road. Coretta can tell, plain as day, that he’s wondering where his daddy is. Wondering what in the fuck is taking the man so long. Keston hasn’t caught on yet, thank the fuckin’ lord. Sweet little thing is gonna raise hell once he starts to realize his daddy probably ain’t coming. She ain’t looking forward to that fuckin’ conversation at all. It’s gonna be a fuckin’ nightmare. 

Coretta knows the strange peace of the shack ain’t gonna last. Knows it’s the calm before the storm. People or Corpses are gonna ruin it eventually. That’s just life. Just the fuckin’ _joke_ that is life. She’s gonna need to figure out a back up plan before then. New place for her babies to sleep. New place to set up shop. 

She figures north is a safe bet when it’s time to go. Meat freezes in the cold. She figures Corpses will too. Ain’t no reason to think differently. Just gotta stock up on the canned food ‘cause hunting ain’t so easy when the animals are freezing their balls off and starving. Northwest maybe. Dakotas or some shit. Coretta doubts many people are up there. She don’t really wanna go up there, she ain’t never been that far north in her damn life, but she needs a back up plan for when the fuckin’ shack falls through. Needs a place to actually go. Not just a fuckin’ idea of a place. Coretta ain’t looking forward to post-apocalyptic house hunting. Sounds like a fuckin’ nightmare. 

Not today though. She ain’t worrying about that today. She wants a deer. Needs a deer. Plenty of meat. Can dry it and make deer jerky or some shit. She won’t have to hunt for a few days if she does that. She can focus on other things for a little while. Like scavenging the fuckin’ highway like a rat again or teaching her boys to protect themselves better. Something that ain’t marching ‘round the woods looking for deer tracks. 

It’s going well enough. She left the hounds back at the shack for once. Don’t need them scaring off deer. They’re better suited for smaller game. Things that won’t run miles and miles away. Things she can just shoot outta a tree and be done with it.She’s found deer tracks an hour or two old near the creek and figures she’ll be back to the boys a little later than she planned. 

It’s well past noon when she hears the voices and her heart stops in her fuckin’ chest for a moment. It’s a group, she can tell that much. Sounds like men. Coretta decides she ain’t interested in making friends and throws herself down into the creek. There’s plenty of clay root to duck into and she chooses one that’s a tight squeeze but makes it damn near impossible to spot her. She’s not worried about her boys. She’s a few miles from them and these men sound like they’re going the opposite direction. So long as they don’t spot her, it’ll be fine. 

She feels like a rabbit hiding from Lucy and Red. Feels the way she did when Jesse would shove her out the backdoor of the shitty trailer they grew up in when their daddy came home cussing and smelling of whisky. Her hand is clutching the buck knife tightly and she’s struggling to calm her breathing. Struggling not to make a sound. They’re getting closer and Coretta’s grinding her teeth as her stress builds and the blood rises in her ears. 

They ain’t even trying to be quiet. Talking and shootin’ the shit like it’s a damn camping trip. If it weren’t for what the fuck they’re talking about, Coretta would relax. The shit they’re saying makes her blood run colder than fuckin’ ice. They’re looking for women. Not to help them either. _Fuck._ Coretta knows people are shitty. Knows damn well how terrible people tend to fuckin’ be. Knew as soon as this mess started she was gonna be seeing the worst of people. Getting confirmation is still rattling. They’re too close to her and the boys for comfort. Even if they’re not headed that way, the cabin suddenly feels like a fuckin’ target. Like she’s just asking someone to try something. 

She crouches in that damn clay root long after their voices have faded away. Waits until it’s nearly fuckin’ sunset before creeping out and heading home. Fuck, she can’t believe she considers that shitty shine shack home now. Her trailer may have been a piece of shit, but her shack makes it look like a fuckin’ mansion. She forces her hands to stop shaking as she makes her way back. She can’t let her boys see her rattled. Can’t let them see their momma scared. Scared mommas make for scared babies and she needs her boys calm. Needs them keeping their heads screwed on straight. 

It’s dark by the time she gets back and Mason’s trying to cook frog legs on the stove like she does. Keston is playing on the dirty floor with Red. She takes over the cooking as soon as she’s in the door. Let’s Mason go mess with Molly-dog while she gets food ready for the boys. Hunting all day with nothing to show for the efforts. Waste of a damn day. She figures there’s enough frog legs to feed the boys. She’ll settle for water and cigarettes if they eat it all. Coretta ain’t wasting the canned food and she’s used to hunger. She don’t need her babies getting used to it anytime soon. 

She stares down at the frog legs and frowns. She needs a fuckin’ map. Needs to figure out where to go. This place ain’t safe anymore. Won’t stay a haven forever and she can’t risk her or her boys by staying too long. Coretta got fuckin’ lucky today and she damn well knows it. She also knows that her luck ain’t ever good for long. Something always has to go wrong. 


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks after the incident with the men, her boys hand her a headache on a silver fuckin’ platter. She’s let Mason take Keston down to the creek to catch frogs and crawdads while she makes new arrows. Mason’s good enough with the child sized compound bow she knows he’ll be able to protect himself and Keston. Knows he’s within hollering distance of her. Knows he’s got Molly-dog with them. She ain’t fuckin’ worried. So long as they don’t get stupid and run off, it’ll be fine. 

It’s a down day, no need to hunt today. She’d done well enough lately they could live off dried squirrel and rabbit meat for a month. So she can take a day to make arrows, wash clothes down at the creek, work on making those fuckin’ fur gloves for the boys so they can keep their fingers when winter finally comes around. She ain’t heard a peep from other people since those men walked by her. She knows there’s farms around here. Knows people are probably around, but ain’t no one coming around so it ain’t her concern today. 

Coretta is relaxed enough she takes a few sips from one of the moonshine jars and sighs happily at the familiar burn. She’s not about to drink much. Can’t drink much with the way the fuckin’ world is, but a sip or two won’t hurt as the evening gets closer. She got to bathe and wash the dirt outta her hair in the creek this morning and got her boys all cleaned up too and she’s feeling good. Still wants to get gone, but for now, she’s alright. Seeing her blonde hair instead of muddy hair is a fuckin’ amazing thing. Keston and Mason will get all muddy catching frogs and crawdads but they know to wash the mud off before coming back. Things are good for the zombie fuckin’ apocalypse. 

Her boys running back full speed to the shack, Molly-dog running beside them, and screaming for her tells her she spoke too soon. Of fuckin’ course the one good feeing day has to go bad. She grabs her compound bow and the quiver of freshly made arrows and runs to meet them, “Mason? What is it? Y’all hurt anywhere? Was it Corpses or people?”

“Momma, there’s a girl!” Mason’s eyes are blown wide and he’s panting and she can see he’s missing a few of the arrows she made him. 

“Like a person person or a Corpse?” Coretta breathes deeply and tries to keep calm. 

“A person! She’s a kid like me, Momma, and Corpses were after her so I helped her but she ran off and— and Momma, ya gotta find her!” Mason pleads. Trust her older boy to want to help every lost thing he finds. It’s how they got Molly-dog, after all. 

“If you helped her, why’d she run?” Coretta can feel the fuckin’ headache coming on and the pleasant feeling the Moonshine gave her slip away as she listens to her son’s little tale. 

“Dunno, but she was real scared and ya gotta help her!” Mason looks ready to cry if she doesn’t agree. Her little boy can be so contrary and argumentative when it comes to helping people. She ain’t sure he’s found something yet he don’t wanna help if he can. She ain’t got a clue where that good will came from. 

“Keston, ya see this girl too?” She glances down at her littlest baby. She needs to know Mason didn’t just imagine some shit in the woods. 

Little Keston nods and messy blonde hair falls in his eyes. She needs to cut that. He shuffles his feet, “Please, Momma, ya gotta get her, she was all scared and cryin’.”

Coretta gnashes her teeth, “Where’d y’all see this girl? Keston, go inside and stay there. Mason, show me where I’m supposed ta be lookin’.”

Neither boy hesitates to listen. Coretta wants to say no, in all honesty. This girl ain’t her responsibility. She don’t know her from Adam. If some dumb bitch can’t keep track of her kid, Coretta ain’t really interested in picking up the slack. Only reason she’s agreeing is ‘cause she can’t stand Mason’s heartbroken looks whenever she won’t let him bring home strays. 

They get down to the creek and Mason points out towards where the trees get real thick, “She ran that way, ya gonna find her, right?”

Coretta sighs as she starts looking for tracks, “Yes, baby, I’m gonna find this girl. Ya get back home, now. Stay there with your brother.”

Mason is gone, Molly-dog in tow, now that the kid is satisfied she’s gonna help this girl he’s found. There’s maybe an hour to sunset and she needs to work fast if she wants to find this kid. Least the trail is fresh as they come and the girl sure wasn’t trying to hide her damn tracks. Coretta doubts the girl’s too far away. 

She follows the crushed leaves and footprints and places it’s obvious someone’s been through the thick fucking trees and undergrowth. This girl is damn lucky Coretta paid attention when Jesse was teaching her all this tracking shit back before he took off and got into drugs. Girl would be fucked if she hadn’t. 

It’s the crying that gives the girl away first. The fuckin’ crying. Coretta would have to tan her boy’s hides if they cried that loud out in the woods. Fuckin’ begging Corpses to come eat her. Crying has to be fuckin’ quiet these days. None of this sobbing shit if they want safety. Girl is curled up against a tree and she looks like fuckin’ hell. Like she’s had a real bad fuckin’ day. 

“Hey, Girlie, hell ya doin’ out here?” Coretta calls out, trying to keep her irritation from coming through. 

The girl looks shocked and like she has half a mind to bolt again. If she does, Coretta ain’t fuckin’ chasing her. Thank the fuckin’ lord the girl has enough sense not to run, “I— I’m lost.”

“Yeah, that’s clear ‘nough. I ain’t askin’ if ya lost. I’m askin’ why yer runnin’ ‘round the woods like it’s a party. Where ya supposed ta be?” Coretta has resigned herself to having to help this kid get to wherever the fuck she came from. She ain’t keeping no more fuckin’ strays. Molly-dog is more than enough. 

“The— the, uh, the highway. My mom is there and our people. There were walkers and they chased me,” The girl is sniffling like she might burst into tears any second now. 

“Quit that cryin’, yer fine. I’ll take ya to the damn highway in the mornin’, now get up and come on, we ain’t got all day,” Coretta is trying to be nice since this child has clearly had a time of it, but her annoyance at the situation is making her accent thicker and she knows if her boys were here they’d be suddenly on their best damn behavior just hearing that change. 

The girl hesitates like she thinks Coretta is a fuckin’ witch or something that wants to eat her and Coretta rolls her eyes, “Way I see it, ya got two choices, honey, ya either come with me, have a safe place ta sleep for the night, or take yer chances in the woods. I ain’t gonna make ya come with me, but I ain’t exactly gonna be believin’ ya if ya say ya can survive the night out here.”

The girl stands on shaky legs like she’s a damn newborn fawn or some shit and stumbles towards Coretta, “My— my name’s Sophia Peletier. What’s yours?”

Polite little thing. Kinda cute. Coretta runs her eyes over the girl in the dying light and don’t see any bites, “Coretta Evans, Miss Sophia. Pleased ta meet ya. Now keep up and try not ta make noise. Don’t need any Corpses finding us.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place. My boys are there, they’re real sweet, ain’t no reason for ya ta run off again when ya see ‘em. We got food too, if ya hungry,” Coretta figures whoever this girl’s momma is, she can’t be sending her back to the woman with an empty stomach. That’s just bad fuckin’ manners. 

Miss Sophia trails behind Coretta the whole way, tripping on every damn pebble and twig in the woods. She swears this girl probably ain’t ever been in the woods in her life before the Corpses started biting people. Coretta can’t wait to give her back. Girl is gonna get herself killed and Coretta ain’t interested in witnessing that. First thing she does after feeding the kids in the morning will be marching this girl back to the fuckin’ highway. Wipe her hands of a problem she don’t fuckin’ want. 

The shack and her perimeter of dead Corpses comes into view and she can see light from the wood stove through the curtains. She needs to board those damn windows up. Fuck, that’s going to be a headache. Miss Sophia ain’t said a word in awhile and Coretta is pretty damn happy about that. She ain’t in the mood to conversation. 

Coretta opens the door and ushers the girl inside, “Miss Sophia, those’re my boys, Mason and Keston. The dogs are Lucy, Red, and Molly-dog— they don’t bite. Get settled, I’ll see if I got spare clothes for ya. Mason, Keston, this is Sophia, she’s stayin’ the night with us. Be sweet.”

She turns her attention to the trash bags of clothes she brought while the kids get to know each other. She figures the girl won’t mind boy clothes for a night. Mason ain’t cut the sleeves off all his shirts and there’s a pair of kid’s sweatpants she scavenged off the highway that will probably fit the girl. She grabs those and one of the only shirts Mason ain’t fucked up yet and tosses them at the girl, “Here, get changed, yer filthy. Boys, face the wall ‘til she’s done.”

Coretta sets to getting the dried meat for dinner, since her boys got distracted from frog catching by miss Sophia. She tosses a few pieces to the dogs before calling the kids over and handing out jerky. She’s extremely grateful Miss Sophia don’t ask what kinda meat it is. The girl looks like the type to be squeamish about squirrel meat. She also reminds Coretta of a little broken bird, truth be told. All skinny arms and legs and a sad, shy little face. Coretta needs this girl gone before she starts feeling responsible for her. She’s got two kids already, she sure as shit doesn’t need a third. Especially since the girl comes with a damn group. Coretta ain’t interested in that shit at all. People are nothing but trouble and she’s not looking to get involved with trouble. 


	6. Chapter 6

Next morning, Coretta gets the kids fed and makes sure Miss Sophia looks clean and presentable for her momma. She figures her momma don’t need to see her looking like hell. Coretta don’t know much about other people’s kids, but she thinks returning them better than she found them is what she’s supposed to do. 

Coretta smokes a cigarette and watches Mason show Miss Sophia that little compound bow he loves so much as she considers how she wants to go about taking this girl back. She ain’t driving the truck, that’s sure enough. She ain’t wasting gas when walking works just as well. Not like the girl’s momma gonna take off on them if her baby is out here. Coretta sure wouldn’t, but Coretta ain’t dumb enough to loose track of her boys and they ain’t dumb enough to run off blind like Miss Sophia did. Her big concern is finding the right fuckin’ people to return this girl to. She ain’t interested in running into the wrong group and she don’t want the little girl getting hurt if something goes wrong. Mason would be all pouty if she let that shit happen. 

Miss Sophia seems utterly taken by the dogs and Coretta gets the feeling the girl ain’t ever had a pet before. She’s shy as they come too. Speaks in a tiny little voice every time her boys talk to her. A real stark fuckin’ contrast to Mason’s confidence. Her boy has never been one hide behind her leg, that’s for damn sure, even Keston is a loud mouth when he wants to be. 

Coretta puts the cigarette out and whistles at the kids, “Mason, Stay here with Keston, remember the rules. Miss Sophia, I’ll be walkin’ ya home now if ya ready.”

Mason grins brightly at Miss Sophia, “Ya should come visit again, I’ll show ya how to catch crawdads.”

Miss Sophia smiles all shy again and nods her little head, “If mom lets me, it was nice meeting you.”

Coretta grabs her knife and her bow and puts her hand gun on her hip just in case some shit does real wrong and leads the girl down the dirt road towards the highway, “Now, Miss Sophia, I need ya to stick with me, no runnin’ off or gettin’ spooked, I don’t wanna be chasin’ ya all through the woods today.”

“Yes ma’am, why aren’t we driving?” Little Sophia looks at the red pick up like she’s aching something fierce to be in it. 

“Limited amount of gas, honey, don’t need ta be usin’ it,” Coretta don’t mention this way makes it harder for her group to spot Coretta before she wants to be seen. That truck is great until she wants to keep outta fuckin’ sight. 

Coretta takes her time walking so the little thing doesn’t fall behind, Lucy and Red trot ahead of them like they have a clue where they’re going. Damn coonhounds probably trying to sniff out squirrel or something. If they do, Coretta will happily take it. Miss Sophia keeps up well enough, still all clumsy like she ain’t ever learned to use her legs properly, but Coretta chalks that up to not being used to the woods and being kinda scared of everything, probably steadier when she ain’t afraid. 

A gunshot sounds further down the highway when they’re about a mile from it. Coretta stops walking immediately and considers that. One gunshot. Either someone is hunting, stupid or shot another person. It’s too close to the highway for comfort too and Coretta curses. She ain’t walking this girl into a potential shoot out. 

She turns to look at the girl and Miss Sophia is staring up at her all wide eyed, “Change of plans. I’m gonna take ya back ta the shack, then go find yer people. What’s yer momma’s name?”

“Carol,” Sophia answers in a tiny little voice. 

“Great, I know ya wanna see yer momma again, but I ain’t takin’ ya near where someone is shooting off a gun if I don’t have ta. You’ll stay with Mason and Keston while I find ‘em, what kinda cars does yer group have?”

“An RV, a truck, oh, there’s a motorcycle too,” Sophia nods with each car she lists. 

“Alright, well that’s memorable. I’ll find ‘em and come get ya, ya gonna be alright with that?” Coretta don’t need this girl raisin’ hell ‘cause Coretta’s trying to make sure they don’t get fuckin’ shot. 

“Yes ma’am,” Miss Sophia looks a bit unhappy but ain’t arguing so Coretta figures that’s fine. 

Coretta turns them around and whistles for the dogs to come along. Ain’t losing her husband’s dogs. She refuses to let those dumbasses get eaten by Corpses any time soon. Miss Sophia is wringing her little hands the whole walk back and Coretta is chewing the inside of her cheek in frustration. She don’t like this situation one bit, but one gunshot is more concerning that multiple. At least with multiple, Coretta knows it’s a bad sign, one gunshot is too many fuckin’ possibilities. She don’t like that shit at all. 

Miss Sophia is quiet as a damn church mouse when they get back to the shack and Coretta ushers her back inside with a quick run down of the rules. Coretta puts the hound dogs inside too, girl seems to like them and she don’t need them getting shot or something while she’s trying to see what’s going on. 

Coretta heads back out to the highway, stabbing a few Corpses in the head as needed. An Rv, a truck, a motorcycle. Should be easy enough to spot, especially with people. It’s well past noon by the time Coretta makes it to the highway, Sticking in the tree line for some cover. She walks down the road the direction the boys said they saw the girl running from and figures it’ll be a mile or two at most before she finds this group. 

Coretta lights up a cigarette as she looks for people. Looks for RVs and trucks and Motorcyles. Someone’s definitely been around, cars have been pushed off the sides of the damn road to make a path. Guess that means Coretta’s going in the right fuckin’ direction. She blows smoke out and taps the buck knife against her thigh as she looks. She ain’t seeing a any of those cars. Ain’t seeing any people that ain’t Corpses. 

Two miles of walking and she ain’t found a damn thing. Not a single fuckin’ person. Coretta is going to raise fuckin’ hell if these people left their damn kid behind. Gonna have a fuckin’ fit. Her daddy may have been a piece of shit, but even he never just left her and her brothers places they weren’t supposed to be. Mostly, anyway. 

Coretta finds bottles of water and food on the road by a little cardboard sign. Alright, well, shit. At least it says they’ll be coming back for the girl. Every damn day. Coretta wishes they’d have left a time or some shit they’d be coming back, like noon or something so she knows when the fuck this girl’s people are gonna be around. That’d be fuckin’ nice. Coretta ain’t gonna sit by the road all damn day and she sure as shit ain’t leaving a kid by the road like that. She’ll have to go hunt these people down or something. Dumbfucks leaving a damn kid. What a fuckin’ mess. Coretta shakes her head and heads back. She got a little girl’s heart to break she guesses. Ain’t like she can justify this mess to the poor thing. This is what she fuckin’ gets for being soft to Mason’s habit of finding strays.


	7. Chapter 7

Coretta goes searching for people the next day. Lingers awhile near the damn sign they left in case they come by. They don’t. Of course they don’t. Why the fuck would they? Coretta is pissed the fuck off as she goes looking for people. She ain’t got a clue where the fuck to start, for all she knows, they’re long gone. She fuckin’ hopes not, but she ain’t the type to expect the best to happen. Life don’t work out like that. She figures if they’re around, they’ll be holed up in a barn or house or some shit. She’ll have to skirt some of the farms, there’s people there and she figures if Miss Sophia came from one of them, she’d have said. She ain’t about to give the girl to some fuckin’ stranger. Coretta is giving the girl back to her momma or she’s keeping her until she can. Simple as that. 

Coretta finds the old church, all bloody and broken and wonders if God is still paying it any attention. From the blood stains on the Jesus statue, she don’t think he is. She wanders through it and moves on quick enough. She ain’t been a fan of church in a long time. That was her momma’s thing and it died with the woman. 

Coretta is out for hours looking for people. Hours and hours of searching for people she don’t know, all so she can give them back their damn kid. She gonna get the girl a leash too, her momma won’t be able to lose her again if she’s fuckin’ attached to her. She ain’t gonna be helping a second time if this group can’t keep track of their damn children. 

The hopeful look on Miss Sophia’s little face damn near breaks Coretta’s heart when she see it and has to watch it fade when Coretta shakes her head. Poor thing just wants her momma. Coretta’s trying but she don’t know where to start. Don’t know where these people are. 

Coretta sighs and starts running ideas through her head as she watches Mason try to get Miss Sophia laughing. Keston is messing with a beetle by the shack and the dogs are roughhousing. If it weren’t for the fuckin’ Corpses Coretta’s stacked up, it’d look like a damn camping trip. 

Coretta resigns herself to checking farms tomorrow. Maybe see if any of them know about a group passing through that’s missing a kid. She ain’t a fan of the idea but unless God drops a big flashing arrow down to show her the way, that’s gonna be the easiest option. 

“Momma!” Mason runs to her all big eyed. She knows that look. That’s his fuckin’ begging look. 

She eyes him warily, “What is it, baby?”

“Sophia dropped her doll and she really likes it, could you go find it tomorrow?” Mason looks like he’ll go looking himself if she don’t agree, something Coretta sure as shit ain’t gonna be alright with. 

She rolls the idea over in her head, if someone’s looking for the girl, maybe finding the doll will help the situation. Somehow. She’d rather be looking for people, but she figures if someone’s looking for Sophia, maybe they’ll cross paths if she finds the damn doll. Not like she has any better ideas. Coretta sighs and calls out to the girl, “Miss Sophia? Where’d ya drop the doll?”

Sophia wrings her little hands and looks at the ground, “Down by the creek, Mrs. Evans. You don’t have to get it, though. It’s not a big deal.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow. Every time she’s heard a kid say something ain’t a big deal, it almost always is. She shrugs it off, “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow. Ain’t like I got better things ta do. Y’know the names of anyone else in yer group?”

Sophia blinks and bobs her head, her short hair bouncing around her face as she does, “There’s Lori and Carl— Carl’s a kid like me— um, there’s Shane and Rick, Rick and Lori are Carl’s parents. Shane and Rick are police officers. Then there’s Dale, he’s really nice, and Andrea, she’s nice too. T-dog is funny, oh then there’s Daryl, but he’s not really friendly.”

Coretta figures she’ll remember maybe half those names, “Any of ‘em gonna shoot me if I bump into ‘em?”

Sophia’s eyes get real big, “I don’t think so?”

Coretta takes that as a  _ yes, but I don’t know which one _ and chews the inside of her cheek again. She’ll just have to be careful if she runs into them. She ain’t looking to get shot anytime soon. She gives the girl a thin smile, “Well, alright then. I’ll see about findin’ that doll for ya.”

Sophia looks torn between joy and like she wants to apologize for the trouble, “Thank you, Mrs. Evans.”

Coretta rolls her eye, “No trouble, girl, and just call me Coretta. Mrs. Evans makes me feel like an old lady.”

Mason grins like a little devil and she knows he’s about to get himself into trouble, “But, Momma, yer old.”

There it is. She cuffs him over the back of the head lightly, “Boy, I’ll have y’know I’m twenty-six. I ain’t anywhere close ta old and ya know it. Quit bein’ rude, we got a guest.”

Sophia giggles and Coretta can’t help but laugh with the little girl. At least the girl is still able to laugh. Coretta hopes she’ll be able to laugh a lot more once she’s back with her momma. Lord fuckin’ knows kids need a reason to laugh these days. Coretta figures she can take ‘em down to the creek and let ‘em have a mud fight or some shit if she don’t find the girl’s people tomorrow. Something to keep the sweet thing’s mind off the situation. 


	8. Chapter 8

Coretta goes hunting up the damn creek for a damn doll. She’s got Lucy and Red with her and they’re all muddy and wet and Coretta has already resigned herself to the shack smelling like wet fuckin’ dog for awhile. At least they ain’t barking. She don’t need them calling down every Corpse in the damn area again. Every damn time it’s a fuckin’ mess. 

She cannot believe she’s looking for a damn doll. She can just imagine Wade laughing his fuckin’ ass off at her for this. Can just picture his pretty brown eyes shining with glee at the fact she’s marching around a muddy creek in the fuckin’ apocalypse looking for a damn doll. He’d be calling her a damn sentimental fool and she damn well knows it. 

Of course, that’d be only after he got over the fact she brought a stray kid home. He’d be all pissy for awhile over that. Wade may have loved their boys more than life itself but she knows damn well they’d have never had a third kid, he was adamantly opposed to any extra mouths to feed. Until the fuckin’ apocalypse happened she’d been annoyed by that, had wanted one more. She gets it now, though. An extra mouth to feed ain’t feasible. Sophia’s a sweet girl, but Coretta needs to get her back to where she came from, she ain’t got enough food to feed three little kids for long. 

Coretta hunts through the mud and rotten leaves and fallen branches. Glares irritably every time she has to kill another damn Corpse. There’s more than before and it’s making her edgy. Making her feel the need to load the truck up in case they need to go quick. She’s always been good at knowing when shit’s ‘bout to hit the fan and figures once she finds this girl’s people, it’ll be time for her to kiss the shack goodbye. 

The dogs lose their shit a little some time in the afternoon and Coretta watches in fuckin’ bemusement as a damn horse, fully saddled up, hauls ass past them. Well, least she knows there’s a person somewhere around here. Hopefully the Corpses ain’t got ‘em. That’d be a real fuckin’ shame. 

She sighs and climbs up outta the creek bed. Might as well go find the person. Maybe they’ll be one of Miss Sophia’s people. She whistles sharply to the dogs and waits until they’re back with her before heading in the direction the horse came from. Coretta ain’t sure this is a good idea, but worst comes to worst, she can always shoot an asshole. 

She can hear some guy cursing up a fuckin’ storm after awhile of walking. Coretta raises an eyebrow as she listens. Sounds like he’s talking to his own damn self. Fuckin’ lunatic. She pauses at the top of one of the steep inclines by the creek and watches as a guy that looks like a fuckin’ nut job comes crawling up the side. Her dogs are at her side and bristling as they watch, but they stay quiet for now. 

The man don’t notice her right away and it gives her a moment to look him over. He looks like absolute shit, frankly. There’s blood on his face and he looks like he took a nap in the damn mud. He’s got a crossbow and Coretta mentally calculates the chances he’ll shoot her if he startles. She don’t like her odds. She can see blood stains on his side and what looks like a shitty attempt at binding an injury. Coretta’s big question is what the fuck is up with the damn ears around his fuckin’ neck. That’s some trailer trash shit right there. She would know. 

She tenses when she sees the doll he shoves into his back pocket. Fuck, that’s probably Sophia’s. Fuck. She hopes this is one of her people. She don’t get a moment to speak before her dogs bark at the man and startle him. Fuck, he’s got that crossbow aimed at her fuckin’ face before she can fuckin’ blink. She fuckin’ hates people. 

“Who the fuck are ya?” His voice is rough and harsh and Coretta bristles at the accusatory tone. 

“Don’t think that matters none. The fucks up with that doll?” Coretta narrows her eyes and raises her chin, he’ll kill her before she can do much so ain’t no point playing sweet and scared. She’s dead or she’s not. Not much else to it. 

“Ain’t none of yer fuckin’ business, bitch,” He snarls at her and Coretta runs through the names Sophia so kindly gave her. He don’t look like a cop. So not Shane or Rick. He ain’t a girl. T-dog or Daryl. 

Coretta makes a quick bet and braces for a bolt to the face, “Might damn well be my fuckin’ business,  _ Daryl. _ Don’t need no fuckin’ child molesters out here so I hope ya got a damn good reason for wantin’ a doll.”

She can see the fury on his face at the comment. Can see the fuckin’ second it clicks she just called him by name, definitely his name from the momentary shock on his face. She gives him a nasty smile and pulls a cigarette out of her pocket and lights it. If he’s gonna kill her, she’d like one more smoke first. 

“I ain’t a fuckin’ child molester, ya dumb fuckin’ cunt. How the hell ya know my fuckin’ name?” He looks like he’s got half a mind to throw that crossbow down and grab her. 

“Tell me why ya got that damn doll and maybe I’ll tell ya,” Coretta throws back after blowing smoke out. 

She can practically see him trying to keep from losing his shit on her. Can almost imagine the smoke coming outta his ears like one of those cartoons. Coretta don’t mind none. She’s dealt with her fair share of temperamental men and she ain’t fazed by it. If he were gonna kill her, she’s damn sure she’d be dead already. 

“I’m lookin’ for a little girl. Now _how the fuck_ ya know my name?” He grits out like it physically pains him to answer her. 

“‘Lookin’ for a little girl.’ Sure sounds like some child molester shit,” Coretta drawls. This man may be part of Miss Sophia’s group but she ain’t giving the girl to anyone but her momma. Which means this crazy lookin’ fucker ain’t gonna be on the list of approved guardians until further fuckin’ notice. 

“Bitch, I done fuckin’ told ya I ain’t a child molester. I’m lookin’ for a kid that got lost, her momma’s worried fuckin’ sick and I ain’t got time for yer shit.” The crossbow leaves her face but Coretta gets the feeling one wrong move and that’s gonna change. 

Coretta takes a slow drag off her cigarette and blows the smoke out, “What’s this lil girl’s name?”

The man —Daryl, she supposes— squints at her like she’s planning to go murder the kid herself if he tells her. So fuckin’ distrustful. Ain’t like she didn’t have opportunity enough to kill him when he was hauling ass up the fuckin’ cliff. Still, he answers all pissed off like she’s askin’ for his kidney, “Her name’s Sophia and I ain’t got time to deal with ya.”

“Sophia Peletier?” She grins slow and sharp at the look of astonishment on his face. 

“Ya found her?” He looks like he has half a mind to shake her until the girl falls outta her back pocket. 

“Maybe I did. Where’s her momma?” Coretta sure as shit ain’t taking this man anywhere near her shack. 

“Where’s Sophia?” He immediately counters. 

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t tellin’ a stranger shit like that. Ya want her, ya best tell me where I can find her momma, I ain’t interested in playin’ babysitter much longer.”

The man takes a step towards her like he’s actually gonna try something and Red starts growling the way Molly-dog does when people get too close to Mason, “Bitch, tell me where the fuck that lil girl is right fuckin’ _now!”_

“No. Tell me where I can take her and I’ll be happy to return her ta y’all but I ain’t takin’ any of ya with me ta get her. Matter of safety, ya understand,” Coretta is fairly confident this guy ain’t gonna kill her now that she’s got something he clearly wants. 

“I ain’t doin’ that shit, I been lookin’ for this girl for three damn days! Ya fuckin’ take me to her now or I’ll shoot yer fuckin’ ass,” he raises the crossbow, anger clear on his face. 

“Then I guess ya ain’t gonna find her, and you can explain ta Miss Carol why she ain’t gettin’ her baby back,” Coretta shrugs again carelessly, fully confident he’s bluffing. Killing her ain’t gonna get him what he wants. She notice he’s swaying a bit and figures that injury on his side is probably not doing him any favors. She could almost assuredly out run him if she needs to. It’s that crossbow that’s the issue. 

There’s a moment she thinks he might shoot her anyway before the fuckin’ bow drops again and he starts cursing up another storm. Coretta is content to wait him out. Finally the man stops and glares at her, “We’re at a fuckin’ farm. Ya gonna take me ta this girl right fuckin’ now.”

“I don’t think so. It’s gettin’ late and I ain’t marchin’ that lil thing all through the woods at night. She’s real skittish and I ain’t feelin’ inclined ta chasin’ her. I sure as shit ain’t feelin’ inclined ta bringin’ ya ‘round my people,” Coretta is happy to bring the girl to her group now that she’s got an idea of where they are, just not tonight. Coretta ain’t about to drag a little girl through the woods crawling with Corpses at night. 

“Excuse me?” His tone gets dark and murderous. 

“Which farm y’all at? I’ll bring her by in the damn mornin’. I ain’t makin’ her walk through the woods at night and ya ain’t comin’ near my people,” Coretta ain’t backing down. She’s doing these people a damn favor and she sure as shit ain’t gonna be pushed by this man to do anything she don’t wanna do. 

“Listen here, bitch, that little girl’s momma is half outta her mind with worry and I am bringin’ her home _tonight._ Ya can either take her ta me now, without a damn bolt in yer fuckin’ ass or ya can do it with a bolt in yer ass. I don’t give a shit which, but yer gonna take me ta her right fuckin’ now,” He sounds likes he’s fighting not to curse her out. 

“My name ain’t bitch, ya fuckin’ dipshit, and threats ain’t gonna get ya nowhere. I ain’t takin’ ya anywhere near my people. ‘Specially not when ya look like a fuckin’ methhead,” Coretta don’t need Mason gettin’ any ideas about fuckin’ ear necklaces. 

Coretta gets the feeling she’s playing with a bomb as the muscles in his arms twitch. Oh, he’s good and pissed. She gets it, she does, but she don’t want anyone knowing where her and her boys sleep. Safer this way even if she feels a bit guilty keeping Sophia away from her momma one more night. She gotta put her boys first. 

She watches him squint at her for a moment as she takes a drag of her cigarette. She don’t like the look he’s givin’ her, like he’s plotting shit out. She ain’t brought her bow with her today, needs to make more arrows for it, so all she’s got on her are the buck knife and her handgun. The dogs are growling and barking up a storm beside her as the silence stretches on. She eyes him warily as he puts the crossbow on his back and tenses up. 

She don’t like that look at all. Like he’s a wolf or some shit and she’s a deer. Coretta can see where this is about to go and flicks her cigarette at his face. She turns and bolts, dogs hauling ass right beside her. She can hear him cursing behind her as he gives chase. Coretta don’t give a shit. She ain’t running back to her shack and he’s injured. She’ll win this little race of theirs so long as she don’t slow down. 

Coretta ain’t expecting the fuckin’ _injured_ idiot to tackle her from behind. It’s a quick, dirty struggle and she manages twice to knee him right over his injury before he gets her pinned. He’s breathing hard and glaring down at her, “Listen, _sweetheart,_ I ain’t interested in yer people. I just want the damn girl back. It ain’t that fuckin’ hard ta understand.”

Coretta narrows her eyes up at him as Red and Lucy bark and snap at him, “yer gonna get her back, but I ain’t takin’ ya ta her. I’ll bring her ta ya, not the other way ‘round.”

He slaps a palm down on the ground beside her head and she goes still as stone. She ain’t looking to get beat today but she ain’t gonna give away her boys’ safety. His lips curl back like he wants to snarl like her dogs, “Take me ta the damn girl or ya ain’t goin’ back ta yer people tonight.”

That makes Coretta twitch a little. She can’t leave her boys alone over night. She can’t fuckin’ do that shit. From the gleam in his eyes she can tell he knows he got her. Can see he knows that he won. He may not be able to kill her, but he can damn well make her life hell if she don’t do as he asks. 

“Get that injury taken care of first, dumbass. Yer bleedin’ on me,” Coretta grits out. She glares silently up at him as he drags her to her feet along with him. The man keeps a tight grip on her upper arm as he takes her gun and knife and drags her along behind him. Fuckin’ asshole, she can walk just fuckin’ fine on her own. Lucy and Red trot along beside them as Coretta thinks up ways to be the biggest pain in the ass this man’s ever met for forcing her hand like this. Fuckin’ hell, she ain’t ever letting Mason bring strays home again. It ain’t fuckin’ worth the trouble. 


	9. Chapter 9

Coretta glares at the side of Daryl’s head as he drags her along beside him. The dogs are trailing after them and Coretta starts thinking about whether she could shake him loose. He’s limping along, that side injury starting to catch up with him, she’d bet Red on it. Coretta is fuckin’ pissed, but more than that, she can feel her anxiety rising the closer they get to wherever the hell he’s taking her. She ain’t been around people in two months, the idea of a whole group of strangers is enough to make her breathing increase and her heart start trying to beat outta her chest. She doesn’t want to fuckin’ do this. 

The fuckin’ idiot who’s dragging her can feel her arm tensing as she fights the urge to try and break loose and gives her a dark glare, “Don’t even fuckin’ try it, woman.”

“Ain’t tryin’ nothin’, ya piece of fuckin’ shit. We had an agreement, remember? Ya get yerself fixed up, I take ya ta Sophia,” She hisses at him. 

He snorts like he doesn’t buy for a second she’ll keep up her end of that bargain, but doesn’t speak again. Which is fair. She feels the urge to get the fuck away increasing second by second. First chance she gets, she ain’t ashamed to admit to herself, she’s gonna bolt. She has her boys to get back to and now she’s got a good idea of where to take Miss Sophia. She don’t need to linger. Ain’t fuckin’ interested in making friends. 

The window of opportunity closes as they get close to the tree line and she can see a fuckin’ R.V. out in a field. Coretta hisses at her hound dogs to stay as Daryl keeps dragging her along. They whine and complain but obey. Coretta don’t need her dogs getting fuckin’ stolen or some shit. She likes the damn things for all the trouble they can cause. 

She watches warily as her panic rises and four men come hauling ass towards them. They’re shouting and Daryl ain’t talking and her breathing is getting faster. Coretta don’t wanna be here at fuckin’ all. She glares at the big man with the short as shit hair that’s eyeing her like she’s a disease while the smaller guy points a gun a Daryl’s head. Yeah, Coretta ain’t likin’ this at all. 

Daryl don’t seem to happy about the gun to his head and growls out, “That’s the third time ya pointed that thing at my head, ya gonna pull the trigger or what?”

Coretta watches with sharp eyes as the gun falls to the man’s side. Daryl jerks her arm a bit and opens his mouth to speak and a shot rings out. He’s hitting the ground and Coretta is free again and she’s fuckin’ gone. She pauses long enough to grab her knife outta his pants and hauls ass away as the shouting and chaos behind her begins. She whistles sharply to the dogs and hears Daryl yelling weakly about how they need to catch her and decides she ain’t fuckin’ stopping for shit. 

Coretta’s not sure any of them actually chase her but she ain’t gonna stop running. She knows where Sophia goes now and it’ll be fine. She’ll take the girl there tomorrow and get the fuck outta this place. She feels a bit bad about the man getting shot but not enough to stop running. Let them deal with their own damn problems. She’s helping that group enough by keeping Miss Sophia alive. 

She’s panting and her legs are shaking from exertion by the time she and the dogs make it back to the shack. The dogs collapse on the group panting hard as she bends over and puts her hands on her knees. Her boys and Miss Sophia creep outta the shack as she works to catch her breath. 

“Mrs. Coretta? Are you okay?” Miss Sophia sounds like she’s worried they’re in danger. 

Coretta breathes hard for a moment before looking at the girl and smiling, “Sure am, Honey. I found yer people. I’ll be takin’ ya to ‘em tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

Sophia looks surprised before a wide grin spreads across her face, “Thank you so much for helping me, ma’am.”

Coretta waves off the thanks and straightens up, “Mason help me load up the truck, we’re gonna leave soon, ain’t nothin’ for us here.”

Keston is the one to ask the question she’s been dreading, “What ‘bout Daddy?”

“I’ll leave a note, he’ll find it,” Coretta ain’t ready to break the news their daddy probably ain’t fuckin’ coming. She don’t know how to tell them that. 

“Where we gonna go?” Mason tilts his head. 

“I’ll figure that out tomorrow. Don’t ya worry, just help me load up,” Coretta sets to work putting the canned food and moonshine in the truck’s tool box along with cases of ammo. Mason runs around carrying trash bags of clothes that get thrown unceremoniously into the bed of the pick up. She’ll put weapons and dogs and blankets in the backseat of the truck tomorrow. Coretta figures further they get between them and the idiots in Sophia’s group the safer it’ll be. She ain’t a fan of people who shoot their own friends. 

She feeds the kids and dogs more squirrel jerky that night and sits and drinks moonshine as the three kids curl up on that shitty mattress in a pile with the dogs. She’s got the jar in one hand and a cigarette in another and neither are helping her calm down. She don’t like people at all in the apocalypse. Ain’t a fan of the crazy that apparently comes with ‘em now. She wants nothing to do with ‘em. Being alone with her boys may be a bit more difficult, but she thinks it’s safer. Less wildcards. They’ll be fine so long as they’re left the fuck alone. 

Coretta’s eyes slide to the girl curled up with little Keston’s head on her leg. Miss Sophia is a sweet girl and Coretta’s quickly grown fond of her, but she needs this girl gone. Needs her with her group and where no more trouble can get brought to Coretta’s family. Keeping the girl around any longer than she has to is gonna get her kids killed. By Corpses or people, Coretta ain’t sure, but she ain’t risking it anymore. Time for the sleepover to come to an end. 

Coretta leans her head back against the wall and blows smoke out into the darkness. Just a few more hours and it’ll all be fine again. Just gotta wait a little longer. Just gotta be patient like her momma was. Just a bit longer. Coretta can do that. It’ll be fine and soon it’ll be just her and the boys again and things will be back to their new normal. 


	10. Chapter 10

Morning comes too soon and Coretta’s head is pounding from the moonshine she drank the night before. That was a fuckin’ mistake. She lets the kids sleep in while she lets the dogs out and starts moving guns and the bows and arrows into the car. A glance at the sun tells her it’s probably ten or eleven in the morning. She needs a fuckin’ watch or something, telling time by the sun position was Wade’s thing, not hers. 

Coretta chews on a piece of dried squirrel or maybe it’s rabbit, she’s too hung over to really give a shit about it as she goes about filling the truck’s gas tank. It takes two of the gas cans and she sighs at the knowledge she’s gonna have to go siphon gas. That’s gonna be a pain in the damn ass. She throws all the gas cans in the bed of the truck with a shake of her head. The truck is great, but it takes a shit load of gas. She’s always hated that about trucks. 

She goes back inside and glances at the three children curled up and snoring on the mattress. Keston is drooling and Mason is twitching. Miss Sophia is curled up like a cat between the brothers. Coretta will wake them soon, but she figures letting them sleep a bit more can’t hurt. She rounds up every carton of cigarettes Wade’s stashed around the place, far more than she’d initially expected, she smokes outta stress mostly, but he was a fuckin’ chain smoker and it shows. She throws all those into the glove compartment of the truck. Ain’t no point letting ‘em go to waste.

Coretta hums and considers what else she needs to put in the truck. The toilet paper. And tampons. She’s got a couple months supply of birth control left on account of having the shit mailed to her and never fuckin’ canceling that even after she quit birth control ‘cause it made her nauseous, but when that runs out she’s gonna need tampons again. Ain’t no way she’s leaving those behind. 

Little Keston comes outta the shack rubbing his eyes and yawning as big as he can and Coretta smiles a bit at the sight, “Mornin’, baby, sleep well?”

Big brown eyes blink up at her as he nods a bit, “Yeah, Momma. Gotta pee now.”

Coretta snorts a laugh and gestures to the general area, “Go ahead, ain’t like ya didn’t piss on the side of the shack yesterday.”

Keston don’t need another word to do just that. Her littlest baby is getting real comfortable real quick with pissing wherever he damn well pleases when he’s outside. Even Mason likes to walk away from sight for a minute. Not Keston though. Boy is growing up feral and Coretta don’t mind none so long as he gets to grow up. Not like manners matter much in the apocalypse. 

Mason comes stumbling outta the shack next and immediately wants food. Coretta hand him the dried meat with a good natured laugh. Boy has been eating a lot. She figures he’ll be hitting a growth spurt or some shit soon. Bottomless fuckin’ pit. 

Coretta sets to work filling plastic bottles up with the boiled water so they have something to drink as her boys work on eating and waking up. She ignores them feeding the dogs as much as themselves. Things are quiet and Coretta would enjoy the nice weather more if her head wasn’t pounding. Drinking that fuckin’ shine was a mistake. Always fuckin’ is. 

Coretta figures she’ll take the kids down to the creek and they’ll all wash the dirt off ‘em before leaving. Ain’t no reason to be covered in dirt and mud just cus they live in the damn woods. Especially not when there’s a perfectly good creek near by. Ain’t no reason for being nasty right now. Coretta still ain’t sure where she’s gonna take the boys, but she figures she can figure that out on the road. Once the headache is gone. 

A sharp gasp from her boys has Coretta grabbing the deer rifle and stand up before she can think. Her boys are crouched down with the dogs that are barking up a storm now and staring at the man watching them silently. Fuckin’ Daryl. He looks a bit better than the day before if she discounts the Bandages on his head. No fuckin’ ear necklace, thank the lord. He’s squinting real hard at her boys and her, she can see his eyes flick around the little area and flick back to them over and over. She don’t like it. 

“Can I fuckin’ help ya?” Coretta grinds out, rifle aimed nicely at his damn head. One move towards her boys and she’ll blow his head off. Friend of Sophia’s or not. 

“Yeah, here ta get Sophia, where she at?” Coretta doesn’t like the way he keeps squinting down at her boys. She can’t read his fuckin’ expression and it puts her on edge. 

She ain’t expecting Mason to shoot to his feet and glare up at the man. She ain’t expecting the language that comes outta his mouth, either. She knew she should have tried harder to get Wade to clean his language up around the boys, “Hell ya want with Sophia? She ain’t yer fuckin’ kid! Her daddy got fuckin’ ate. She told me so!”

Coretta chokes a little at the language, “Mason! Get yer butt inside! Now! Keston, ya too. Don’t wanna hear another word from either of y’all!”

Mason glares up at Daryl like he can make him disappear with willpower alone. Daryl just keeps squinting down at the boy like he’s trying to work out a math problem or some shit. Keston, at least, has the good damn sense to go inside immediately, calling Molly-dog to go with him. The stupid fuckin’ pitbull is happy to follow her baby into the shack. Mason doesn’t budge, just keeps glaring at the man. 

“Mason! Don’t make me tan yer hide!” Coretta snaps, sick of her boy being near a stranger. 

Mason glares up at Daryl a moment longer and snarls, “I’ll kill ya if ya touch my momma!”

Daryl just keeps staring at the kid even as the boy runs inside the shack and outta sight. Coretta don’t like that shit at all and snaps out, “I’d like ta remind ya, I told ya I’d bring her ta ya, just in case that bullet fucked yer memory or somethin’.”

“Ya also said ya’d bring me ta her if I got fixed up. Seems ya ain’t much for honesty,” His gaze swings away from the shack and back to her, “Where the rest of yer people?”

Coretta narrows her eyes and dodges that question, “I’ll get ya Sophia now and ya’ll can go yer merry way. Yer welcome by the way, she ain’t dead.”

Daryl starts chewing the side of his thumb as he watches her move towards the shack’s door, never taking the rifle off him. Coretta don’t know what the hell is going through the man’s head but she’s already had her fill of his shit for the next damn decade. She takes her eyes and rifle off him long enough to open the door, “Mason, wake Sophia up. It’s time for her ta go. Make sure ta give her some food for the road.”

Mason looks furious as he obeys. He shakes the girl awake and hands the tired little thing some meat. There, Coretta’s done her good deed for the month. Kid is alive, fed, and going back to her momma. Life is ‘bout to go back to normal. 

Sophia looks blearily over at Coretta, “Miss Coretta? What’s happening?”

“One of yer people are here ta get ya, when yer ready, he’ll take ya home. No rush,” Coretta smiles tightly at the girl. There’s definitely a rush but she’s not gonna worry the poor thing. She don’t like upsetting kids if she can help it, “Boys, face the wall when she’s changin’.”

Satisfied, the kids are gonna listen she closes the door again and glares at the man as he walks around her little camp. Lucy and Red are baying loudly at his presence, but he pays them no more attention than a few glances as he circles the area. She don’t like the way he’s looking things over. She don’t like the way he keeps glancing at her and the door to the shack. It makes her feel like he’s about to do some stupid shit she’s gonna have to shoot him for. 

“There a problem?” She snaps when she can’t stand the silence anymore. 

“Where yer people, woman? You said ya had people,” He sounds a bit confused, a bit frustrated. 

“Ya saw ‘em. Mason and Keston and the dogs. All I got and all I need,” Coretta ain’t liking the fact she can’t tell what’s going on in his head.

“How the hell y’all still alive then? Ya just leave ‘em alone all day? Don’tcha know there’s fuckin’ Walkers out here?” He looks like he’s struggling to work out a difficult math problem again. 

“My boys are perfectly fine, thank ya kindly. We’ve made it this far,” Coretta eyes him as he tries to get Lucy to let him pet her. The blue-tick coonhound ain’t having it and just backs up, baying her heart out. 

“How old those kids?” He’s chewing his thumb again. 

“Eight and four,” Coretta don’t like where this is going. 

“It’s just y’all and the damn dogs?”

“Ain’t no one else,” Coretta lowers the rifle and watches him carefully. He’s moving slowly, probably being careful of stitches if she had to guess. 

“What’s yer name?”

“Coretta,” She ain’t feeling inclined to giving her full name. 

He nods a bit and goes back to looking around all squinty eyed still as he looks over the perimeter of dead Corpses and the bottles and cans hanging on strings. Coretta don’t have a clue what’s going through his head but he’s calmer than he was the day before and she takes that as a good sign. 

Miss Sophia finally comes out, chewing on what’s probably squirrel and chirps, “Hi, Daryl!”

Daryl’s eyes lock on the girl like he thought Coretta was fuckin’ with him and wasn’t actually expecting the girl to be here. His eyes go wide and he relaxes a bit, clearly relieved, “Girl, ya good? Yer momma’s worried sick.”

Sophia smiles brightly, “Miss Coretta’s been taking care of me, she’s real sweet! Mason showed me how to skin a squirrel the other day!”

Coretta snickers a bit at the blatant surprise on the man’s face, “Told ya she was alive. Yer welcome.”

Daryl’s eyes flick back to her and he nods a bit, “Yeah, thanks for takin’ care of her. Coulda just stuck ‘round yesterday and not run off, though.”

“My boys needed me, it wasn’t an option,” Coretta sniffs and shoots a glare down at the boys that have snuck out behind Sophia. Keston looks like he wants to cry now that his new friend is leaving. Mason looks like he wants to use Daryl for target practice. 

Sophia doesn’t seem at all bothered by the harsh tone Coretta’s using with the man, just turns and hugs Coretta ‘round the waist and squeezes as hard has her skinny arms can manage, “Thank you for helping me.”

Coretta smoothes the girl’s hair down with one hand and smiles a bit down at her, “Let’s not make it a habit of gettin’ lost in the woods, alright? I ain’t gonna be there to save ya next time.”

Sophia nods before looking sad, “You’re leaving now, right? So I won’t get to see Mason and Keston anymore?”

Keston does start crying then. Quiet sobs that shake the little guy’s shoulders as he twists his shirt in her hands. Shit. She didn’t realize how quick her sons got attached to the girl. Mason looks like he wants to beg Coretta to just keep Sophia and say fuck off to the man. 

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t nothin’ here for us. Gotta move on.”

Daryl is chewing his thumb again and keeps glancing over at the truck. If he tries to steal if, she’ll kill him. She ain’t ready for what he tosses out, “Ya should load yer boys in the truck. Ain’t safe for y’all bein’ out here alone. Need a group.”

“Ain’t got a group. Groups mean trouble,” Coretta retorts. 

“More eyes watchin’ yer boys, safer it is for ‘em,” he counters, eyes on her boys again. 

“And how’d that work out for Miss Sophia? She still ended up lost in the damn woods,” Coretta points out. 

Problem is Sophia’s latched onto the idea, “Oh! You could come with us! My mom would be really happy to meet you! And Carl’s there and Mason and Keston could have another friend! And the dogs would have more people to play with! It’d be great!”

Coretta’s eye twitches a little as both of her boys start begging. Of course they’d want friends. Kids need people. She just don’t want people. She glares at the man who caused this new issue for her. He just shrugs and tries to get Red to come over. The redbone coonhound doesn’t come any closer than Lucy did. Fuckin’ Molly-dog sure does though, the stupid thing runs up to Daryl like she’s known him her whole damn life and practically throws herself at his feet. Of course that dog would like the man. 

“Please, Momma?” Mason stares up at her all wide eyed. Of course he’d jump on the chance to stay with his new friend. 

“Baby, we don’t even know these people. I doubt they want more people in their group,” Coretta tries to argue, too bad Daryl has to contradict her. 

“Ain’t no one gonna make ya go if ya come with me, I won’t let ‘em turn y’all out after what ya did for Sophia. Her momma wouldn’t either,” Daryl sounds like it physically pains him to be nice. Like it’s not a skill he possesses and trying is turning out harder than he expected. 

Coretta glares at him before sighing and looking down at the there sets of hopeful, pleading eyes staring up at her. God fuckin’ dammit. Why’d he have to get them all worked up like this? She chews the inside of her mouth for a second before shaking her head, “We’d be free ya leave whenever we want?”

Daryl shrugs, “Ain’t no one gonna make ya stay if ya don’t want ta.”

Fuck. She works her jaw, “Get the damn dogs and get in the truck. I ain’t in the mood for this crap right now,” She looks at Daryl and glares, “Yer drivin’, I don’t know where I’m goin’.”

She ignores the children’s gleeful cheers as they start rounding the dogs up. Ignores Daryl watchin’ the kids and tosses him the damn keys. She ain’t happy about this, but she figures lettin’ the boys have a day with two other kids can’t hurt. They’ll just leave if it don’t go well. Ain’t like they’re gonna get attached to everyone in the damn group. Hopefully her kids will lose interest in Sophia and this Carl kid quick enough. 


	11. Chapter 11

It’s an awkward drive. At least for the adults. Coretta sits in the passenger seat with Keston in her lap and Molly-dog in the floorboard while Lucy and Red are squeezed into the back seat with Sophia and Mason. Daryl is driving her truck and keeps glancing at the kids in the back with the rearview mirror or side eyeing her and Keston. She gets the feeling he wasn’t fuckin’ expecting just her and a pair of young boys when he tracked them down. She suspects that was a bit of a shock for the man. If the way he keeps looking at her and the kids is any fuckin’ indication, anyway. 

Keston stares at the man the whole way and Coretta has a feeling it’s making Daryl nervous. When her son reaches out and real carefully taps the man on the arm, he jumps a bit like he’s been electrocuted and eyes her son like he’s an alien. Doesn’t say shit though. Just eyes him. Coretta wonders if he’s ever been around kids under ten before. 

Keston does it again and again until Daryl speaks, “Yeah, lil man?”

Keston tilts his head real far to the side, “Yer our friend?”

Coretta eyes the man warningly. She don’t need him lying to her son, but she don’t want him hurting the boy’s feelings either. Daryl shifts in the seat like someone shoved hot coals under his ass, “Think ya should clear that with yer momma.”

Keston dutifully turns his big doe eyes to her, “Momma? He our friend?”

“Up ta ya, baby. Long as he’s nice ta ya,” Coretta thinks that’s as diplomatic as she can be. 

Keston turns back to look at the man, “Ya know how ta catch frogs?”

Coretta snorts a bit. Her baby loves catching frogs. Thinks it’s great fun. Of course he’d wanna know if Daryl could do that too. Daryl glances at her a bit like he’s hoping she’ll get Keston to leave him alone before answering real slow, “Yeah?”

“Ya good at it? Mason says I ain’t good at it,” Keston says it so earnestly. 

Mason pipes up from the back, “That’s cause ya let ‘em go. We ain’t supposed to let ‘em go. Momma supposed to cook ‘em.”

Keston twists around in her arms to glare at his brother, “Do not!”

“Do too! Yer always lettin’ ‘em go ‘cause ya think it’s more fun that way!” Mason sounds like if he could he’d be wrestling with Keston already. Coretta is gonna die laughing the day Keston is big enough to get the better of him. 

Keston sticks his tongue out and looks back up at Daryl, “So ya any good at it?”

Daryl looks like he wishes he weren’t there, “I guess?”

“Cool. Ya kill any Corpses? Momma kills ‘em all the time. Mason killed a couple too, but he says I’m too little,” Keston continues forcing conversation onto the quiet redneck. 

“Some. Yer too little. They’d eat ya in one bite, kid,” He sounds like he’s trying to warn her kid and make a joke at the same time. Coretta gives him points for the attempt. And his patience. She didn’t figure he’d tolerate her boy’s talking much.It’s a nice surprise. 

Keston stares at the man for a minute before continuing, “Ya sound like Daddy when he won’t let me use the big bow.”

Coretta closes her eyes at the mention of Wade. Keston’s been talking more and more about him and she’s yet to find a good a way to break it to him and Mason. At least Mason is catching on on his own. Might make it a bit fuckin’ easier. She hopes anyway. Daryl doesn’t say anything back to that but she can feel his eyes on her for a moment before he turns his full attention back to the road. 

Coretta adjusts her hold on the child in her lap and looks out the window as Daryl turns them onto a long road that she guesses leads up to the farm he’d been taking her the day before. It’s a pretty place as they drive up. Nice pretty fields and a nice farmhouse. Like something outta a movie. Real nice place. Coretta used to dream of a house like that when she was real small before momma died and daddy started drinking. She can hardly remember those dreams anymore, but she knows she used to want a house like this one real bad. 

Daryl parks her truck right up alongside a motorcycle, turns the truck off and tosses her the keys, “C’mon, Carol’s waiting for Sophia. Will the dogs stay by the truck?”

“If I tell them too,” Coretta assures him. For all she bitches about how dumb her dogs can be, all three follow the commands they know. She wasn’t ‘bout to have shitty trained dogs in her house. 

Coretta gets out slowly and puts Keston on her hip. Commands the dogs to stay sharply, and locks the doors behind Mason. Daryl leads them around to where she can see a group of people near the porch and hollers, “Carol! I got Sophia!”

A thin woman with shorn grey hair breaks from the group with a small shriek of joy, “Sophia! Baby! Oh, Sophia!”

Coretta steps aside and pulls Mason with her as the mother and daughter run to each other. Carol is on her knees and holding the girl like she thought she’d never see her again and crying as she clutches her. Coretta feels like she’s witnessing a private moment. She tenses when the rest of the group shakes the shock off and runs over too, all of ‘em clambering to see their little lost lamb. 

Coretta keeps still and quiet with her boys beside her and looks to Daryl for some sense of direction. Some fuckin’ idea of what to do. He’s just watching all narrow eyed as the girl gets crushed by one hug after another. Coretta feels like she’s intruding. She and her boys probably shouldn’t be here, that’s the feeling she gets until the grey haired woman finally stands up and wipes her tears and smiles at her, “You were keeping my Sophia safe?”

Coretta bounces Keston higher on her hip and shrugs a bit, “Did what I could.”

She’s not expecting the hug. She goes stock still and tightens her grip on Keston involuntarily. This is the second hug she’s gotten from a stranger today and Coretta’s not sure how to respond. The woman releases her and offers a watery, “Thank you.”

Coretta nods a bit and looks away uncomfortable with the attention suddenly on her, “Yer welcome.”

Carol seems to realize she’s not comfortable and goes to thank Daryl next. He seems ten times as uncomfortable as Coretta was with the attention. Mason’s grip on her free hand tightens when the other people approach them, a mixture of curiosity and distrust on their faces. Coretta’s face goes into the blank, mildly unfriendly stare she used back in the trailer park when Jesse tried to get her to give him cash for his habit. 

The first to approach her is the man that pointed a gun at Daryl the day before, “Rick Grimes, ma’am, and this is Shane Walsh. It’s a pleasure to meet you and your boys.”

Mason steps between her and the man and stares warily up at him. Her baby thinks he can take on the whole damn world, she swears it. Coretta smiles tightly at the man and tugs Mason back, “Coretta Evans. Nice ta meet ya.”

“And who are these guys?” He gestures for her boys. Coretta thinks he’s genuine, if a bit wary. He’s definitely being polite until she gives him a reason to not trust her. 

“Boys, introduce yerselves,” Coretta prompts them. 

“Keston,” is all her littlest baby says. 

“I’m Mason!” Mason declares it like they should already know his name. 

“Nice to meet you boys,” Rick turns his attention back to her with a quick glance towards the dogs by her truck, “You were takin’ care of Sophia for us?”

“Sure was. Little girl was cryin’ in the damn woods, was gonna get eaten by a damn Corpse with all the racket she was makin’,” Coretta drawls out, not seeing a damn point in sugarcoating it. 

The bigger guy— Shane— looks like he doesn’t like her one bit, “Well, good thing you were there, wasn’t it?”

Coretta eyes him. She knows a rabid dog when she sees one. Knows the signs of a dog that’ll bite any hand that gets near it for no reason other than that it can. She’s always been of the opinion they’re best gotten rid of. This man looks to her like a rabid dog. She doesn’t smile at him, just states plainly, “Shouldn’t’ve been needed, truth be told.”

“Right. Didn’t realize that redneck would be bringin’ back more than just Sophia,” He looks like he’s already passed judgement on her and her boys. 

“Surprise,” Is all she offers in return to that. 

He smiles at her and she thinks it looks more like a grimace. She makes a mental note to keep the boys away from him. The dogs too, just in case. 

The Asian kid waves at Keston who immediately decides there’s too much going on and hides his face in her neck, “I’m Glenn Rhee, sorry if we scared you yesterday, you ran outta here pretty fast.”

“Being dragged off by a stranger then having a gun fired in yer general direction will do that ta a person,” She says dryly. 

“I did not drag ya here, woman! We had an agreement!” Daryl hollers at her from where he’s talking to Carol. 

“Ya wouldn’t let go of my arm, that’s draggin’,” Coretta snaps back. 

“I’m Theodore, everyone calls me T-dog though, were y’all just out there alone?” The black guy introduces himself with a wide, genuine smile. 

“Sure was!” Mason answers proudly for her. 

T-dog laughs and gives the kid a high five, “Brave kid. Bet that was an adventure for you.”

Coretta laughs a little as Mason starts telling the big man all about skinning squirrels and catching frogs and killing a few Corpses. Mason is definitely not ashamed of the way they’ve been living. Proud little brat. She doesn’t like the way the adults all look a bit uneasy at her son’s account of their lives. Daryl seems to be the only one unfazed by it. 

The pretty woman who looks like she ain’t done a day’s hard work in her life looks at Keston with a motherly smile on her face before giving Coretta a much more reserved look, “Lori Grimes, I’m Rick’s wife.”

Coretta doesn’t miss the dark look that passes across Shane’s face for a moment as the woman says that. Coretta’s definitely not letting her kids near this man. She nods at the woman, “Pleasure ya meet ya.”

“Where were you stayin’?” The woman gets right to the point. 

Mason answers proudly before Coretta can open her mouth, “Daddy’s Shine shack!”

Coretta woulda said hunting cabin, but that is what Wade called it, “Baby, why don’t ya go play with Molly-dog? She’s probably bored. Don’t leave my sight.”

Mason glances back at his big brown and white pit and smiles, “Okay, Momma!”

Coretta watches him as he runs off towards the dogs, calling Molly-dog to him. Red and Lucy’s ears perk up but they stay where they are, even as their tails wag madly. 

“Cute dogs,” Glenn offers, though Lori looks profoundly uncomfortable at the sight of them. 

“Thanks. The hounds are my husband’s. The pit is Mason’s,” Coretta offers, “They love kids. Ain’t ever bit someone in their lives.”

“You’ll have to talk to the owner of this place if you intend to keep them here,” Lori says it like she’s expecting Coretta to get kicked to the curb. 

“I’m sure that won’t be an issue, Hershel’s a vet, remember?” Rick jumps in before Coretta can say a word. 

“So where’s your husband?” Shane cuts in real quick. 

Keston pulls back from hiding in her neck to look up at her and she can feel Daryl’s eyes on her again. She shrugs, “Went huntin’ a week before shit hit the damn fan, ain’t heard from him since. Take from that what ya will.”

It’s nothin’ Keston doesn’t already know. Nothin’ that would get the poor thing all twisted up. It’s the safest and most honest way she’s got of explaining the situation. The truth without saying what it fuckin’ means. Coretta’s taken to wearing her wedding ring on a chain around her neck lately, figures if she finds Wade again, she can just move it back to her hand. 

“Damn, sorry to hear that,” T-dog offers after an awkward pause. 

“Ain’t no need for apologies. I imagine it ain’t an uncommon story these days,” Coretta waves it off, not wanting to think about the husband she ain’t had time to mourn. The husband she’d just tucked away in the back of her head to mourn at a later date.

Keston’s bottom lip puffs out a bit and her baby says in a real tiny voice, “Mason says daddy ain’t comin’ back.”

Coretta’s gonna tan Mason’s fuckin’ hide. She don’t know when that boy said that shit, but she’s fuckin’ pissed. He ain’t supposed to be saying shit like that. She pets Keston’s messy blonde hair, “That so, baby?”

He nods and Coretta grits her teeth at the pity evident in everyone’s eyes, “Well, sounds like Mason wants his butt whooped, why don’t ya go let him know he’s in trouble?”

Coretta sets Keston down and gives him a gentle shove towards his older brother. She ain’t sure where Mason thinks it’s alright to be saying that shit to Keston, but she ain’t having it. Let him stew a bit before she gets to the discipline bit. Ain’t no rush. He ain’t a dog that needs to be disciplined as soon as they make a mistake. He can sit and think for a bit. 

“Cute kids,” Shane says dryly. 

“I’m well aware, I do hope they ain’t gonna cause ya problems,” Coretta pulls a cigarette out and lights it, watching each of their faces as she does. Lori wrinkles her nose and a hand goes to her stomach. Well, now, ain’t that interesting. Coretta ain’t stupid. Girl’s only be putting their hands like that, all protective and shit, for one reason. Coretta considers offering congratulations but don’t think that’d be real polite. Maybe some other fuckin’ time. 

Coretta’s eyes slide over to the two people approaching the group from the RV. An old man and a blonde. The old man looks friendly enough, but that blonde looks like she’s itching for a fight or some shit. Like she’s got issues up the ass and don’t know what to do with ‘em. Coretta ain’t real interested in whatever drama that one brings to the table. 

She smiles a bit at the group she’s already with and walks over to Daryl, cigarette dangling from her lips, “Didn’t warn me ya had a whole damn circus here.”

He squints at her, “Yer the one with the fuckin’ zoo.”

Coretta smirks a bit and exhales smoke as she glances over at the boys, “So which of these fuckers shot ya? Need ta know who not ta let ‘round my kids.”

Daryl looks like his patience for people is running thin but he answers with a jerk of his head towards the blonde that’s fast approaching, “Andrea, she’s a shit shot.”

Coretta hums a bit, “I’ll keep that in mind. Any other advice?”

Daryl eyes her a bit, “Yeah, Watch out for Shane. He ain’t right in the damn head.”

Coretta nods at that, she already figured that one. Guess she ain’t the only one who can see a rabid dog for what it is. She gives the rough man a smile before stepping forward to greet the newcomers. Might as well try and be friendly. Ain’t like there’s much else to do. 


	12. Chapter 12

Carl got shot. She learns that listening to Mason and Sophia pester Rick about him. Coretta grimaces at hearing it, a hunting accident more or less. Poor kid nearly died and is still getting better. Damn. Coretta ain’t ever liked hurt kids, always made her heart ache a bit of ‘em. She makes sure to warn her boys that if they meet the kid, they gotta be easy on him for a bit. Gunshot wounds ain’t a quick heal.

Coretta finds she likes the Greene family. Hershel’s a bit set in his ways but he’s a good man, likes her dogs just fine too. Keeps scratching ‘em behind the ears whenever they come near him. Even gave her a free fuckin’ check up for ‘em. Molly-dog’s a bit on the skinny side apparently and needs to eat more. She works out a deal with him regarding her guns, she leaves ‘em all unloaded and locked in her truck and she can stick ‘round. She don’t mind that, guns make too much noise for her taste most of the time. She don’t need to call the Corpses down on her. Maggie’s just a couple years younger than her and Coretta finds her to be tough as nails real quick. Girl don’t seem to take any bullshit from anyone. Little Miss Beth is her favorite though. Sweet as fuckin’ sugar and takes to Keston real quick. Coretta has a feeling if she ain’t careful the little blonde girl is gonna steal her baby. She ain’t sure the girl is made for surviving this world, but she hopes she manages it, be a damn shame if someone so nice got killed. 

Coretta sits on the bed of her truck and keeps a distance from the group as she watches her boys play with Sophia. Tag she thinks it is. She ain’t sure what she should be doing but for now she’s content to just watch her babies play. She ain’t had time to do that in a good while. She’s feeling damn good, the Greene family has let her and the boys use their bathroom to clean up and seeing her boys clean makes her happy as fuckin’ hell. Turns out their tans were half dirt. Seeing herself clearly in a mirror for the first time in two months wasn’t near as pleasing. She looks like hell even after shower. She can tell she’s lost weight. Her face is all sharp looking and she figures skipping meals to see her boys fed while running ‘round the damn woods all day didn’t do her any damn favors, the weight loss makes her eyes look all big and shit and she ain’t sure how she feels about it, but cutting the dead ends off her hair was a godsend. Getting the grease outta it was better though. Fuck, her hair has always been fine and it makes her look like a greasy fuckin’ weasel when she don’t wash it regularly. Rinsing it in the river wasn’t fuckin’ cutting it. 

Coretta’s got the hound dogs sleeping at her feet and a bottle of water in her hand and is content as can be. The group minus Rick are all sitting under some tree like they’re having a damn picnic as she watches the kids. She don’t feel comfortable going over there. They’re nice enough, but she’s well aware she ain’t one of them. It makes her wary of going around ‘em. Carol don’t seem interested in her staying away though. 

The woman goes to collect Daryl first, who don’t seem pleased at all, before walking over to her and handing her a plate of food too with a kind, friendly smile on her face, “You should come over to the group, you’ll still be able to see the children from there.”

Coretta takes the plate real carefully from her and raises an eyebrow, “Seems like a y’all thing. Don’t wanna be imposin’.”

Carol looks entirely unimpressed with that logic and shakes her head, “You won’t be imposing. I’m sure it must have been a bit lonely out there, might be nice for you to have a few adults to eat with.”

Coretta’s eyes drift to the group. They’re all sitting around and having a great time, though Daryl is standing a against the tree and eating with his fuckin’ hands like a damn animal. Her eyes go to Carol’s kind face and she shrugs, “If ya really want me ta, guess it won’t be an issue.”

Carol looks damn fuckin’ pleased with herself as Coretta follows her to the group, one eye on the kids at all times. Carol has her sit right by her as they settle in with the group and true to her word, Coretta has a perfect view of her boys as they play. Or fight. Looks like Mason has Keston in a weak headlock as Sophia watches her boys devolve a bit. Coretta nods when the little group all voice their greetings. 

She splits her attention between the group and the kids. Ready to intervene if Mason gets too rough with Keston. She don’t need a crying baby today. She pays attention with half an ear as the group makes small talk and shoots the shit. She ain’t much interested in talking, just wants to eat her food and relax a bit. 

“So Coretta, what were you doin’ before all this?” Lori is the one that makes her have to talk. 

Coretta eyes the woman, “Workin’ two jobs and raisin’ two babies. Ain’t much ta tell.”

“What about your husband? What’d he do?” Lori keeps on. 

Coretta narrows her eyes and get the feeling this is some kind of status thing the woman is trying to establish, “Worked as a mechanic. Did odd jobs when he could for extra cash.”

She don’t mention that when she was pregnant with Keston and money was real short and they were havin’ to cut back on groceries, he started running fuckin’ drugs for a minute. She’d never mentioned knowing to him, hadn’t wanted to start that fight and they’d needed the money. She hadn’t approved one bit though. Had cried about it for a damm week. Fuckin’ hormones. 

“Y’all worked a lot it sounds like,” Andrea points out like it ain’t fuckin’ obvious. 

“Needed money. Weren’t much of a damn choice. Work or starve,” Coretta deadpans. She’d never fuckin’ complained about it either. It was just fuckin’ life. Ain’t nothin’ complicated about it. 

“Well, hows you meet your husband?” Lori seems fuckin’ obsessed with reminding everyone Coretta is a married woman. Or Widow at the fuckin’ worst. 

“Grew up in the same damn trailer park. Ended up married and livin’ in a different one,” Coretta raises a challenging eyebrow at the judgement she sees on Shane’s face. 

“Explains a lot,” She hears him mutter under his breath. 

“Yeah? What’s it fuckin’ explain?” She bares her teeth in a parody of a smile. 

He opens his mouth to keep digging his grave, but Carol intervenes, “Sounds like a sweet story, childhood sweethearts and all.”

Coretta wouldn’t call it that. She’d met him hiding in the damn woods while her daddy was beating the hell outta Jesse and Wade’s mama was too high to notice her boy missing when they were about Mason’s age. Coretta’d taken off the day she turned eighteen and they’d gotten married in fuckin’ Vegas a week later. She loved Wade but he’d been her first fuckin’ ticket outta that hellhole. She weren’t dumb enough to shoot it down. She don’t tell ‘em that though, just smiles a bit at the woman, “We made it work.”

“Well, you have two sweet boys, seems y’all made it work real well,” Carol glances over at where Mason is giving Miss Sophia a flower he found. Little fuckin’ charmer. 

“We did. Those boys are the best things that ever happened ta us,” Coretta is well aware they’re the only reason her and Wade weren’t running fuckin’ wild all the time. 

“Ain’t sweet, that one cursed me out and threatened ta kill me,” Daryl mutters. 

Coretta shrugs, “Takes after his daddy there, don’t know what ta tell ya. His daddy had a temper and so does he.”

Her whole damn family has fuckin’ tempers. Wade got in more fights than she cared to count growing up and she had to bail him outta jail twice when she was pregnant with Mason. Jesse used to set shit on fire when he was pissed, she would scream, and her baby brother would run off. Whole damn family has tempers. She ain’t ever though much of it so long as they don’t hurt family. 

“Sounds like a little hell raiser,” T-dog laughs. 

“Takes after his daddy,” is all she offers to that. Wade was a good husband but a wild man. She knows that much. He’d always been real sweet to her and the boys, but he ain’t ever quite settled down. She always thought of him a bit like a stray dog as much as she’d loved him. Always around but never really there to stay. She don’t like thinking about how there’d been more than one time she’d waited for the day he just never came home. 

Glenn shifts uncomfortably and Coretta don’t like the guilty look on his face, “So uh, I hate to ruin the day, but, uh, there’s Walkers in the barn.”

Coretta’s eyes flick to the locked up red barn a ways away. She don’t like the sudden change in atmosphere at all. She can just fuckin’ tell this is all about to go straight to hell in a hand basket. She sighs and pulls another cigarette out. She ain’t ready for whatever bullshit is about to start. 


	13. Chapter 13

Coretta watches as panic sets into the group and they all haul ass to the barn. There’s shouting and hollering and Coretta sighs and wanders over at her own damn pace to see what in the fuck is happening. It’s fuckin’ chaos and Coretta can tell this is all about to go south real damn quick. Shane’s passing out guns and yelling about protecting themselves and Maggie is yelling at him to stop. All Coretta can see looking at Shane is a rabid dog frothing at the fuckin’ mouth. She glares irritably at Daryl as the man takes a gun from Shane. Thought that one at least had some common fuckin’ sense. 

She feels her boys grab onto her pants leg as the kids come see what all the commotion is about and gets real mad when Shane looks down at her boys before trying to hand her a gun. 

“Hell I’m suppose ta do with that?” She snaps and doesn’t reach out for it. 

“Walkers are in the damn barn! It ain’t safe. You want to keep those boys safe or not?” Shane looms over her and she contemplates taking the gun and shooting him in the fuckin’ nuts. 

“Safer havin’ ‘em locked in the damn barn than havin’ a damn shoot out and ringin’ the fuckin’ dinner bell for all the damn Corpses ta come visit, ya fuckin’ idiot!” Coretta don’t take kindly to the man trying to use her boys against her. 

Shane don’t take well to that at all and tries to shove the gun into her arms, the force enough to make her stumble back a bit, she still don’t take the gun, “Your boys ain’t safe with these thing in the damn barn! They get out and they’ll kill your kids!”

“Don’t fuckin’ touch my Momma, Asshole!” Mason screeches from behind her at the sight of the man pushing her like that. She has to grab him real quick by the back of his shirt to keep him from launching himself at the man. Lord, her boy is pissed as shit.

Coretta glares, “Don’t fuckin’ talk ta me ‘bout my fuckin’ kids! Ain’t my land, ain’t my barn, ain’t my fuckin’ place. _Fuck off._ Mason, Keston, go sit by the damn truck, right now.”

She don’t look down at her boys as she speaks, not willing to take her eyes off the rabid dog in front of her. She don’t like this shit at all. So there’s fuckin’ Corpses in the barn. Long as they don’t get out, she ain’t concerned by it. Those fuckin’ guns are gonna be what kills ‘em all. Maybe this Shane asshole ain’t been out in the real world for a bit or some shit, but there’s more Corpses than there used to be in the woods and she don’t need them all coming here. 

Shane scoffs and she swears she hears him call her a dumb bitch under his breath but moves on. Coretta shakes her head and takes another drag of her cigarette. This is bullshit and she knows it. She ain’t gonna bare fuckin’ witness to stupidity for stupidity’s sake. She turns to follow her boys and Daryl catches her eye for a moment. He don’t look much happier about this shit than she does but he’s still holding the damn gun. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head again at him and walks away. This ain’t her problem. Ain’t gonna be involved. She warned them about noise. Told ‘em it‘s a shit idea. They do it anyway, it’s their fuckin’ fault when a shit load of Corpses comes through and she’ll happily say she told ‘em so. 

Coretta climbs into the bed of her pick up with her boys and tucks them behind her. She don’t need them catchin’ Shane’s eye again when he’s doing this dumb shit. She don’t trust the man and privately hopes his dumbass gets bit. Teach him a damn lesson about being fuckin’ stupid. Her momma is probably rolling in her damn grave for that thought, but Coretta don’t fuckin’ care. The dogs are under the truck barking their damn hearts out at the mess by the barn and Coretta’s too pissed to tell ‘em to shut up. This is gonna get everyone fuckin’ killed. 

She watches narrow eyed and lips twisted around her cigarette as Hershel and Rick show up draggin’ a pair of damn Corpses with ‘em like fucking dog catchers. She ain’t got a clue why Hershel wants to keep fuckin’ Corpses, but she frankly don’t give a shit. It ain’t her concern so long as they stay in the damn barn. Shane’s real riled up now and when he starts popping off shots, Coretta curses under her breath and pushes her boys further back into the truck bed. She don’t need this shit. No one needs this shit. It’s fuckin’ stupid. 

Keston is makin’ little scared noises and Coretta starts singing low and easy the first song that comes to mind. A fuckin’ Miranda Lambert song. _Mama, I’m alright._ She don’t know why that song comes to mind, but it does and Keston always needs a song when he has nightmares. She figures it’ll help now too. She sings it just loud enough her boys can hear her as she watches Carol send Sophia running over to her and the boys. Coretta helps the girl into the back and pulls keston into her lap, rocking the little thing and singing into his hair. This is bullshit. 

The barn opens and Coretta just keeps singing as the sound of gunfire fills the air, “ _my step is sure and I know my name, I’m strong just like you prayed I’d be.”_

Coretta rocks Keston and Mason and Sophia end up curled up against her side and she watches and sings as hell is breaking loose down at that barn. The gunshots end and she watches poor little Beth start screaming and crying and looking through the dead bodies. Coretta just starts the song over again. No reason to let the kids near that mess. Keston’s face in buried in her chest and Mason’s holding onto her arm and muttering under his breath like he might go kick Shane in the nuts and Miss Sophia is holding her free hand tight as she can and Coretta wants to scream at the other fuckin’ adults. Acting like damn fuckin’ fools and upsetting the children. Fuckin’ hell, coulda done this quietly if they really had to. Coulda just knifed em all in the head or let her shoot ‘em with her compound bow. Ain’t fuckin’ hard. Wouldn’t have been half as dumb as this. 

More chaos breaks out when one of the dead Corpses turns out to be not dead and Miss Beth nearly gets bit. Bunch of fuckin’ idiots. Coretta just shakes her head and tightens her hold on Keston, singing just a bit louder so the kids can’t hear what’s being said by the barn. She don’t need them knowing adult problems. Might be a fucked new world, but she’s of the opinion somethings kids just don’t need to know quite yet. She watches, furious and narrow eyed as Hershel straight up gets in his truck and drives off. Watches as Rick and Shane y’all at each other and everyone disperses awkwardly from the mess they’ve caused. 

Carol comes to collect Sophia and murmurs a quiet thanks to Coretta for watching her. Coretta nods once and goes back to glaring at the group she made the mistake of getting involved with. Damn fuckin’ mess. Coretta fuckin’ hates people. She watches Daryl wander off to his little camp by the tree line and grimaces, fuckin’ idiot shouldn’t have gotten involved like that. She ain’t sure what was goin’ through that man’s damn head, but she ain’t appreciating it one damn bit. What a goddamn mess. Whole thing was dumber than Molly-dog on painkillers. 


	14. Chapter 14

Coretta has her boys stay near the truck while she watches Maggie and Andrea try to wake Miss Beth up from her little meltdown. Coretta ain’t ever seen someone livin’ just lay there like a corpse, eyes wide open and not moving like that. Fuckin’ freaky. Even her momma hadn’t been like that before the end. Coretta ain’t got a clue how to help so she just steps out. Let someone else try to fix that fuckin’ mess. Yet another reason Shane’s grand idea was a fuckin’ mistake. Glenn and fuckin’ Rick have gone off on a little adventure to get Hershel and Daryl’s off in the back of a pasture avoiding everyone and fuckin’ Lori seems to have decided while all the men are gone or burning bodies or ignoring the world, she’s running the damn show. Coretta ain’t much impressed by it, truth be told. Woman don’t seem to have a clue what to do about Beth and wants Rick and Glenn to come back. As if they ain’t planning too. Miss Beth ain’t gonna die before they get back. Grief takes longer than an hour or two to kill a person. Having everyone back here ain’t gonna magically fix the girl. 

Coretta leans on the porch railing and watches her march out to Daryl. She got a feelin’ that woman’s just asking for him to yell at her. He seems like he’s in a shit mood half the time, nice as he was to her boys in the car. Sure enough, not fifteen minutes later, Lori’s marching back alone and looking real annoyed. Coretta coulda told her it’s best not to pester people to do shit for her when they clearly ain’t in a givin’ mood, if she’d bothered to ask. Coretta ain’t sure what it is that’s got him all pissy, but she don’t care none so long as he don’t go taking it out on the kids. 

She eyes Lori as the woman approaches her and raises an eyebrow, “Can I help ya?”

“Look, I asked Daryl to go to town and get everyone, but he said no, I’ll watch your boys for you if you would be willing, Beth is in some type of shock and Hershel needs to check on her,” Lori gets straight to the point. 

“She ain’t gonna die before they get back. Grief ain’t gonna kill her so quick. I ain’t leaving my boys and I ain’t going ta hunt down people that’re gonna come back on their own. Ain’t no use in it,” Coretta says it kindly, says _no_ nicer than she suspects Daryl did. They ain’t just gonna up and leave and she don’t see a point hunting them down. Beth will be fine if they just wait awhile. Ain’t like she’s bleeding out.

Lori looks pissed off and crosses her arms, “Someone has to go get them!”

“Why? They ain’t _gone_ gone. Hershel’s daughters are here, Glen’s fuckin’ Maggie or some shit if y’all’s gossip is ta be believed and Rick got you and yer boy. They’ll come back on their own,” Coretta rolls her eyes, she don’t like havin’ to reiterate a fuckin’ point. Waste of damn breath. 

“I get you just got here and you’ve been alone in the woods for awhile, but around here people help each other,” Lori snaps out. 

Coretta nods real slow, “Ya got a pair of workin’ arms and a pair of workin’ legs. Ain’t nothin’ but that brat in yer belly keepin’ ya from goin’ yerself if ya want ‘em that badly.”

Coretta grins lazily at the shock and panic and extreme anger on the woman’s face. She knew she was right earlier, she’s always been damn good at guessing things like that. Jesse used to say she was a fuckin’ witch or some shit for it. Coretta winks at the woman, “Don’t worry, I won’t say shit. Just don’t be botherin’ me for pointless shit in the future.”

She pushes off the railing before the woman can form a retort and walks off, she’s said her piece and ain’t interested in further conversation with the woman. She ain’t a fan of her but she ain’t gonna stick around to push more of the woman’s buttons. Ain’t no use in it. 

Coretta looks over at the truck to make sure her boys and the dogs are still near it. They are. Mason’s trying to help Keston ride on Molly-dog’s back like a damn horse and the little boy is shrieking with glee. Satisfied, they ain’t goin’ nowhere, Coretta goes to poke the pissy redneck bear. Ain’t like she’s got shit else to do. She ain’t figured out where to go and her boys are too damn attached to Sophia for her to feel good about taking them away unnecessarily. 

Daryl is sharpening a fuckin’ stick and gives her a dark look as she stops a little ways away, “That Lori lady always so fuckin’ demandin’ or is it just hormones?”

He squints all pissy like at her and doesn’t say shit back, Coretta shrugs and pulls out two cigarettes, offering him one, “Here, Ya look like ya need it.”

He glares and glares but takes the offered cigarette and the lighter she hands him, “Fuck ya want? Here ta tell me ta go chase those idiots down too?”

She snorts and takes a drag, “Fuck nah. Fuckin’ pointless ta go get ‘em. They’ll come back on their fuckin’ own.”

“Yeah? So what ya want?”

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t want nothin’, just sick of the pity fest up at the house and my boys are fine by the truck.”

He blows smoke out and keeps sharpening the damn stick, “So ya thought I’d be better fuckin’ company or some shit?”

Coretta tilts her head, “Unless ya ‘bout to start cryin’ on me, I’d say so.”

“Fuck is wrong with ya? Shouldn’t ya be up there watchin’ those boys?”

“They’re fine for a few minutes, Mason takes good care of his brother when I ain’t around, ain’t like the shack where I gotta keep ‘em put up all damn day,” Coretta points out. 

“Yer kid was gonna try and fight Shane, he gonna get himself fuckin’ killed,” Daryl snaps out. 

“Shane lays a hand on either of ‘em, I’ll be cuttin’ that hand off, make a damn necklace outta it like yer fuckin’ ears,” Coretta ain’t concerned. Mason has a temper, but a good head on his shoulders. He normally ain’t writin’ checks his ass can’t cash. Today’s been the exception. 

Daryl eyes her real carefully like he’s weighing out the truth of her words, “Yer gonna get yerself killed too.”

“Ain’t the first ta say that. Ain’t gonna be the last,” Coretta ain’t that concerned with things like that. So long as her boys live she don’t mind if she ends up getting killed. 

Daryl looks like he can’t decide if he wants to snap at her to fuck off or ignore her until she goes away. He settles for taking a drag from the cigarette she gave him and giving that stick of his all his attention. Coretta ain’t bothered by the quiet. She gets a feeling he is, but until she’s done with her cigarette or he tells her to leave, she ain’t moving from her spot. 

He glares at her again after a few minutes, “What? Ain’t gonna bitch at me ‘bout the barn, neither?”

Coretta sighs and looks up at the sky, “I done said my piece when Shane was raisin’ Cain. Ain’t no reason ta waste breath sayin’ it again.”

He scoffs and she gets the feeling he’d been hoping she’d go off on him so he can have a reason to yell at her too. She ain’t much for giving people want they want unless they’re family. Coretta puts the cigarette out in the dirt and stands up, “Have a nice day, Daryl. Try not to stab yerself with that stick, ya only got so many lives left.”

His face twists into a mean look, but she turns and goes before he can get really riled up. She ain’t interested in getting yelled at today. She’s poked the bear enough for her taste. She don’t care to keep on with it. Gets boring if she does it too much. 


	15. Chapter 15

Coretta is chewing on dried squirrel meat and cutting Keston’s hair in the bed of her truck when Shane comes marching over like he’s got a bone to pick. She can hear the dogs all start snarling and Mason quits playing with the child sized bow to watch the man through narrow, distrustful eyes. Coretta just keeps working on Keston’s hair. It’s been falling in his eyes and she’s sick of it. Apocalypse or not, her boys ain’t gonna be lookin’ like fuckin’ Bigfoot. 

“Hey! You seen Lori? We can’t find her,” Shane don’t look happy about that one bit. 

Coretta takes her sweet fuckin’ time responding. She ain’t in charge of that woman. She sure as shit don’t keep track of her. Coretta brushes cut hair from Keston’s bare shoulders and drawls, “Ain’t seen Lori for awhile. I ain’t her keeper. Maybe ya should check the cars. Probably did something stupid like leave ta find Rick.”

Shane’s teeth grind audibly and Coretta’s hold on the scissors tightens. She ain’t above stabbing the man if he tries some shit. He growls out, “How the hell do you figure that?”

“She asked Daryl, then me, ta go do that for her. Guess she went herself if she ain’t ‘round,” Coretta speaks real slow, in case he’s dumber than she thinks he is. 

“And you didn’t mention it to anyone?” He’s glaring down at her like he’s expecting her to beg forgiveness. 

“Not my responsibility ta keep track of a grown ass woman. Don’t see why ya care, she ain’t yer wife,” Coretta watches his face carefully as she says that last bit. Oh, he don’t like that shit at all, she can see the frothing start up a bit. 

“You know, if you don’t want to be here, you can take your brats and leave! Not like anyone wants you here anyway!” He snarls at her like saying that changes shit. 

“Take it up with Daryl if ya wanna turn me out,” Coretta wonders if Daryl will actually keep his word and prevent that if Shane tries. She’s mildly curious to see how it plays out. 

Shane steps towards her and she real calmly snaps the scissors open as far as they’ll go and hold ‘em like that in one hand, makin’ sure the idiot can see she ain’t above cutting someone up if they try something. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Mason raise that little bow and point the arrow at Shane, not drawn back yet, but she knows her boy seems to hate Shane enough that that can change real fast. The dogs’ growling increases under the truck. Her dogs ain’t ever bit anyone before, but she gets the feeling that may change. 

Shane tries to make himself look even bigger than he already is, “I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. You really should leave, might be better for your health.”

Coretta smiles thinly back, “Might be better for yers if ya go look for Lori instead of harassin’ me and mine. Ain’t shit for ya over here.”

Shane rolls his shoulders like he’s shaking off a bug and gives her one last filthy look before storming off. Coretta takes that as a win for tonight. Mason watches Shane far longer than she does after the man leaves. She goes back to cutting Keston’s hair and humming to herself. So long as that man leaves her boys the fuck alone, she don’t care a bit about his bitch fits and need to mark his damn territory. Pissing all over the place like a dog that needs its balls cut. She ain’t ever understood it. 

Coretta narrows her eyes and stops humming when Daryl of all people comes stalking over, chewing his thumb like he was when he found their shack. Keston waves happily at the man, “Hi, Daryl! Ya need a hair cut too? Momma does it real good!”

Daryl stops a few feet from them and shakes his head, “Don’t think I want yer momma near my neck with scissors, kid. Coretta, ya good?”

She cocks an eyebrow at him, “Why ya askin’?”

He gives her a mean look, “Shit, woman, just checkin’, ya could answer the damn question.”

Immediately, there’s a small kid sized arrow in the ground by his feet and Mason is hissing, “Don’t cuss at my momma!”

“Mason, considerin’ what I’ve heard come outta yer mouth lately, ya ain’t got room ta talk. Shoot at someone in the group again and I’ll throw that bow in the first lake I find,” Coretta chides. 

Daryl pulls the arrow outta the ground and stares at it like he ain’t ever seen one before, “Ya mean ta hit the ground or ya just a bad shot?”

Coretta turns her head to watch her older baby’s big blue eyes blink rapidly for a few seconds, “Meant ta.”

“Right... Shoot at me again, kid. See what happens,” Daryl rumbles out before turns his focus back to her, “Why’s he like that?”

“His daddy told him ta take care of me when he ain’t ‘round. He takes his job real serious,” Coretta explains flatly. 

Daryl squints a little at her, “Uh-huh. Gonna answer the question or not? Ya good?”

Coretta finishes cutting Keston’s hair and sets the scissors down, “Careful, Daryl, yer real close ta soundin’ like ya actually care.”

Daryl gnashes his teeth, “Answer the damn question already, ain’t that hard!”

“Mason, put the bow up, time for yer haircut,” Coretta pushes Keston over to make room for her normally sweet little boy to sit, “I ain’t gonna run off if that’s what yer askin’. Might shoot Shane if he keeps up his bullshit, though.”

“Hell did he say ta ya?”

“Ain’t nothin’ worth repeating,” Coretta ain’t about to risk setting a pissy Daryl on someone. 

Mason has no such qualms, “Told Momma it’d be best for her health if we leave.”

Daryl looks murderous all the sudden and Coretta sighs internally. Trust Mason to tell Daryl the situation. Daryl glares at her, “Where ya and yer boys sleepin’ tonight?”

“Truck bed with the dogs, ain’t got nowhere else,” Coretta can’t squeeze ‘em all into the inside of the truck to sleep comfortably. She might if it gets cold enough, but the truck bed is easier. She ain’t planning to sleep anyway. Someone gotta keep watch since they ain’t got the shack anymore. Moonshine and cigarettes gonna get her through the night. 

He shakes his head, “No, ya ain’t. Gonna get killed doin’ that shit.”

“Got a better idea? House and RV both full. Ain’t bout ta go beggin’ for a place,” Coretta glares at him. 

“Ya ain’t beggin’. Get yer shit. Y’all stayin’ at my camp tonight,” he grounds out like he’d rather shoot himself in the foot. 

“We ain’t a charity case. We’re just fine where we are, thank ya kindly,” Coretta already let him drag her into this mess of a group. She ain’t letting him drag her anywhere else. 

“Gonna freeze yer damn asses off, woman. Dumb fuckin’ idea,” He snaps at her. 

Coretta glares, “Ain’t plannin’ ta sleep tonight, I’m keepin’ watch since I ain’t got my shack no more. Be a waste of sleepin’ space if I did that.”

“Ya ain’t gotta keep watch tonight if ya ain’t dumb enough ta sleep in a damn truck bed!” He points the little arrow in his hand at her to make his point. 

“Thank ya for yer opinion,” She snips off a some of Mason’s shaggy hair. 

“Fine, freeze ta death. See if I give a damn,” He stalks off, child sized arrow still in his hand, “Stupid fuckin’ bitch.”

Coretta slaps a hand over Mason’s mouth before he can start shit, “Not a word, boy. Let the man cool off. He’s just bein’ pissy.”

Coretta waits until her son nods before removing her hand and returning to cutting his hair. It was nice of him to offer, but Coretta has her pride and she ain’t interested in swallowing it just yet. Daryl will get the fuck over it and Shane won’t do shit if he knows what’s good for him. She ain’t in the mood to deal with anyone else but her boys tonight. Anymore bullshit happens and she’s gonna start yelling at people. 


	16. Chapter 16

Coretta sits on her truck’s tool box, jar of moonshine unopened on one side of her, and her bow and arrows on the other. Her boys and the dogs are all curled up together under the blankets she pulled outta the trash bags. She has an unlit cigarette in her left hand and she’s just staring out into the dark. The tents and R.V. from the group are a little way away from her and even further out she can see Daryl’s campfire. The farmhouse looks real pretty at night, Coretta decides, even if night time makes things a bit creepy nowadays. 

She’d watched in silence as Shane went off to find Lori. None of the people are back yet and Coretta is starting to admit it’s making her fuckin’ uneasy. They’ve been gone hours and while she don’t regret refusing to go find them, she’s gonna feel bad as shit if Lori went and got herself killed because Coretta wouldn’t help her out. Might have to give into what little faith she’s got and pray forgiveness if that woman is dead. She ain’t been much for prayer since the police so kindly called her to tell her her Daddy had beat Hunter to death. That was a real good way to make give up on prayer. Real fuckin’ efficient way to do that shit. 

She relaxes when headlights finally fuckin’ appear. She don’t run over to greet the lost fuckin’ lambs with the others. Just leans back and watches Shane help a fucked up lookin’ Lori outta the car. Coretta finally sees this woman’s kid as he runs over to her. Maybe Mason’s age. Maybe a bit older. Hard to tell. Cute kid. Coretta wracks her brain for his head and comes up short. Oh well, least he ain’t down a parent. Good for him. Now they just need the men to get their asses back and this little group she’s made the mistake of attaching herself to will be together again. 

She starts drinking slow sips of her shine when Shane starts ranting about keeping Lori and that baby safe. Guess the secret’s out. Coretta wonders if Rick’s gonna be the last to know he’s got a kid on the way. She suspects he sure wasn’t the first man to know for damn sure. Maybe she ain’t being generous though. Ain’t really her place to place judgement there. 

She don’t listen much as Lori is told her man ain’t back. Lady looks like she’s got half a mind to go find him. ‘Cause it worked out so damn well the first time. Bit funny watchin’ her and Shane argue though. But that might just be the damn shine talking. She figures that’s enough to take the edge of her stress and sets the jar back down. She ain’t lookin’ to get drunk. Just take the edge off and make this mess less irritating for a bit. Seems to have worked for now. 

Coretta turns that unlit cigarette ‘round and ‘round in her fingers and just contemplates. She ain’t got a clue where ta take her boys. She may think this group is fuckin’ stupid, but this farm ain’t a bad set up. She won’t be unloading the damn truck anytime soon, but she supposes she could stick around. Least the drama makes for a bit of entertainment and her boys are happy as can be. She needs to make Mason quit starting shit though. She don’t need him causing too many problems. Can’t have him actually shooting someone. She thinks that’d start some bullshit. 

Coretta tilts her head back and stares up at the sky. So many fuckin’ stars. More than she could even begin to count. Staring up at those stars is enough to make her fall asleep like that. Cigarette falling to the truck bed as her hand goes limp. All her stress and exhaustion is finally starting to catch up to her and she couldn’t stay awake if she tried. 

She comes to early the next morning with a crick in her neck and her boys and the dogs fuckin’ gone. She has a moment of panic ‘til she sees the boys and Sophia introducing Lori’s kid to the dogs a ways away. Coretta sighs and stretches, jumping down off the bed of the truck. Might as well go see if Miss Beth is doing better since she ain’t gonna have to go find lost kids today. 

Coretta goes over to her boys first, “Y’all eat already?”

“Yes momma, Carol made us breakfast,” Mason tells her, “This is Carl.”

Carl. Coretta tries to make a point of not forgetting it, “Nice ta meet ya, Carl.”

The boy seems like he’s got too much energy, being cooped up and recovering probably made him stir crazy, “Are you gonna stay? I like the dogs.”

“We’ll be ‘round for awhile. Boys, stay in view of the house, I’m gonna go see what’s happenin’. Miss Sophia, don’t let the boys get ya into trouble,” Coretta smiles a bit at the girl and yawns. 

Miss Sophia nods her little head all happy, “I won’t!”

Satisfied, Coretta shoves her hands in her pockets and walks up to the farmhouse. She don’t know where the men are and she’s reluctant to hunt on Hershel’s land without asking the man permission so she figures she can make herself useful in the house. Gotta be something she can do. Coretta needs something to do, she ain’t a fan of idle hands. Gets her into trouble more often than not. 

Lori and Andrea are in red farmhouse kitchen and Lori looks better now that she’s all cleans up, Coretta shifts a bit when their eyes turn to her, “Uh, just wonderin’ if there’s anything y’all need done ‘round here, don’t wanna be doin’ nothin’ y’know.”

Andrea raises and eyebrow and Coretta gets the feeling somethings bothering the woman, but Lori seems much happier now that Coretta is looking for things to do, “We have laundry that needs to be done, or if you could go sit with Beth awhile so Maggie can get herself cleaned up, that’d be great too.”

“Beth any better?” Coretta don’t like that weird corpse impression the girl was doing yesterday. 

“Not really, hopefully the men are back soon and Hershel can do something,” Lori sighs. 

“Right, I’ll check on her and Maggie, first, see if Maggie needs ta have someone sittin’ with her awhile,” Coretta thinks that’d be the polite thing. 

Lori seems to agree, “Great, I’m making her some lunch, I’ll come check later too.”

Coretta nods a bit and goes to check the little blonde. She knocks real quietly on the door, and waits patiently for Maggie or Beth to say something. Waits for Maggie really, since Beth wanna be a fuckin’ doll or some shit. 

“Come in!”

Coretta tries to open the door nicely, tries not to startle the girls, not that it fuckin’ matters. Beth is curled up under the covers starin’ at the wall like Coretta’s momma used to do on her bad days and Maggie looks like she can’t decide if she wants to scream or cry. Coretta don’t like this kinda thing. She’s got her own shit memories of people letting grief win out, she don’t wanna have another. Still, She smiles a bit at Maggie, “If ya need ta go do anything, I can watch her for ya for a bit.”

Maggie shakes her head, “You don’t need ta watch her. Just maybe talk to her? See if she’ll respond to anything? I’m gonna go talk to Lori.”

Coretta nods once and steps forward to sit by the blonde’s bed. She don’t really know what to say but she figures she might as well try, “Y’know, it does get better. Eventually. Shit hurts like hell for awhile, but ya get kinda numb ta it in time. Only hurts sometimes, then.”

Coretta shifts at the silence and figures she should keep talking, not like this girl is gonna talk back, “Helps ta have people that love ya ‘round. Yer sister, Patricia, the farmhand, yer daddy, all seem like they care a lot ‘bout ya. Helps ta have that. Sharin’ the grief and shit.”

There’s no response and Coretta tries again, “Yer gonna get through this, honey. Ain’t much other choice. Be easier if ya let everyone help ya though.”

Coretta ain’t expecting the girl to actually speak, “No one can help. The world’s over and it’s not goin’ to get better.”

Well, at least she spoke. Coretta shrugs, “World’s always sucked and people always died. Ain’t nothin’ new ‘bout that. Don’t mean ya should just lay down and die too. Not when ya still got life in ya.”

“You can’t protect them. Your sons. Mason. Keston. You can’t protect them. They’re gonna die too,” Beth mutters. 

Coretta tilts her head and swallows her immediate anger at the thought of her boys dying, “Maybe so. Don’t mean I’m just gonna not try my best for ‘em. They deserve very chance I can get ‘em.”

Beth don’t respond and Coretta sighs, “Gonna go see if yer lunch is ready.”

Coretta hates sadness. It’s a bad feeling to have and a god awful one to witness. Especially sadness like this girl’s. She’s acting and sounding too much like Coretta’s momma did for Coretta to be alright with it. 

Lori is walking by her with the tray of food and Coretta stops her, “She talked. She sounds real hopeless, though. Don’t think she should be left alone.”

Lori purses her lips, “Thank you, Coretta.”

Coretta nods and keeps going. Might as well find something to do that ain’t staring at a girl waiting to die. Coretta needs something else. She tried, but that kinda grief ain’t the kind Coretta wants to be near. Makes her feel like a tiny child holding onto Jesse’s hand and calling for a momma that ain’t gonna answer again. 

Coretta goes and figures she’ll do laundry. She can hunt once she talks to Hershel, make sure he don’t mind it. His land, his rules after all. She shoulda fuckin’ asked him yesterday, but she didn’t think to between the mess with the barn and him taking the fuck off. Unless someone gives her a better job, laundry gonna have to do while she figures out where she stands with the group. She ain’t interested in playing housewife with Lori, but these kinda chores do need to be done. Until she can find something else, this is fine. Least it ain’t like the shack where she has to do just about everything that needs doing herself. Division of labor and all that good shit. 

Coretta works through laundry the old fashioned way as she waits to see if the men are ever coming fuckin’ back. It takes for fuckin’ ever ‘cause it seems like ain’t no one doin’ their own damn laundry. Carol comes on over and starts helping her hang the clothes to dry. Coretta likes the woman, she don’t talk too much and she seems nice enough. Even if she did misplace a kid. 

“Sophia seems to really like Mason,” Carol breaks the silence after around fifteen minutes or so. 

“Mason likes people. Loves ta make friends,” Coretta nods a bit and hangs a shirt up. 

“Must have been hard, just you and the boys out there,” Carol muses. 

“Ain’t no harder than anything else I’ve done. Yer girl is real sweet. Acted like a little angel while she was with me,” Coretta glances off to where it looks like Sophia is petting Molly-dog while Mason and Carl have a spirited debate over some shit. Keston is ripping fuckin’ grass outta the ground like he’s a cow or some shit. 

“She’s always been a bit shy, it’s nice to see her with friends. Ed didn’t much like her hanging around boys,” Carol sounds a bit sad and a bit irritated. 

“Don’t think I’ve met an Ed, yet,” Coretta drawls. 

“No, you won’t either. He’s gone,” Carol doesn’t sound near as sad as Coretta was expecting.

“I’m sorry for yer loss,” She murmurs. 

“Not much of a loss, truth be told. He wasn’t a good man,” Carol doesn’t look at her as she say it. 

“Not many good men in the world, I don’t think, ‘specially nowadays,” Coretta was lucky with her marriage to Wade, she knows she coulda ended up with a piece of shit like her daddy real easy.

“There’s a few left, I think. Daryl looked for Sophia everyday and the others have all taken care of the group as best they can,” Carol points out. 

“Good for ‘em. Group got lucky sounds like,” Coretta mutters and pins someone’s pants on the clothesline. 

A car pulling up cuts the conversation short. So they finally got around to getting back. Coretta walks over curiously as everyone else runs to the car. Lori in the front to hug Rick as soon as he’s outta the car. Maggie does the same for Glenn. That’s not what interests her though. It’s the kid in the backseat they have bound and gagged and blindfolded. Fuckin’ hell. She can just see this is gonna go bad. One day, can these people not just go one day without a single damn problem? She just don’t understand who the fuck takes some kid fuckin’ hostage. Coretta sighs as the kids all run over with the dogs to see what’s happening. Shit, she don’t need the boys getting the idea kidnapping people is appropriate fuckin’ behavior now. Coretta has to resist the urge to light a damn cigarette. This ain’t a good way to start a day at all. 


	17. Chapter 17

A meeting. They’re having a damn meeting over this kid they brought back. Coretta leans against the wall of the room and listens intently. Kid and his group started shooting and Rick had to kill a man. Kid nearly lost a leg and no one has a clue what to do with him now. Coretta don’t really care much about the kid. Seems to her, with the fucked up leg, he probably ain’t much more than Corpse food now. Shane’s of the opinion the kid is a threat and Rick wants to send him on his way once Hershel fixes that leg up a bit more. Rick’s real generous like that, apparently. Coretta thinks with that fucked up leg, a bullet to the head would be kinder than letting him go alone and crippled. 

Still, She keeps those opinions to herself and just moves on with her day while Shane and Rick go off to find a place to leave the kid. This is one stray Coretta can’t see a reason to keep. Best turn him loose and let him take his chances, she supposes. She don’t think anyone wants to be the one to kill the kid directly after all. Except Shane, apparently. Rabid dogs are that way. 

Coretta checks the kids before going off with Red and Lucy to get materials for new arrows. She’s still short a few and needs more. She needs to get her damn handgun back from Daryl too. She only had time to get her buck knife when she ran from him and his group initially. He better still have the damn thing. It’s the only handgun she owns. 

She goes to Daryl first. He’s off by his camp with a bunch off squirrel skins dangling from strings. She eyes the ear necklace dangling too as she approaches his camp. He’s doing something to his crossbow and gives her a dirty look when she gets close enough. 

“Hell ya want? I’m busy,” he gripes out at her. She assumes he’s still a bit irritated with her. 

“Ya still got that handgun ya took from me or ya give it away?” Coretta figures getting to the point is the way to go with him. 

“Yeah, I still got the damn gun. Ya gonna shoot me if I give it back?” He eyes her like he wants to not give it to her at all. 

“Ain’t got no reason ta,” Coretta drawls before calling the dogs away from him, “Lucy, Red, get over here. Leave the man alone. Dumbasses.”

Daryl squints at the dogs as they come back to her, “What ya got these dogs for anyway?”

“Huntin’ dogs. Squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, ya name it they can find it. Ain’t much use for deer though. They’re my husband’s,” Coretta absentmindedly scratches Lucy on the head, the blue-tick coonhound is her baby, truth be told. She may have been Wade’s dog but she’s Coretta’s girl. When she ain’t being a fuckin’ idiot at least. 

“Can’t track without ‘em?”

“Can, good for when a visible trail goes cold though. Why? Lookin’ ta get a dog or some shit?” Coretta grins and tries to joke. 

“Ain’t got use for a huntin’ dog. What about that pit?” Daryl is up and digging through his motorcycle bags. 

“Molly-dog? Mason found her in a ditch as a pup and begged me ta let him keep her. He’s got a habit of doin’ that kinda shit. First time I let him keep one though. Wade had a fuckin’ fit over it. Damn thing ain’t worth shit but Mason loves her somethin’ fierce,” Coretta rolls her eyes. Her baby treats the pitbull like it’s his best friend. She ain’t ever seen anything like it. 

“Fuck kinda name is Molly-dog?” Daryl makes a face and pulls her handgun outta the motorcycle’s saddlebag. 

“The kinda name a five year old comes up with,” Coretta deadpans. 

“Why’d ya let him keep it?” Daryl is checking the gun’s chamber as he asks. 

“Money weren’t quite as tight as usual when he found her. Near Christmas too. Didn’t feel right tellin’ him no,” Coretta had been willing to have a screaming match with Wade over it too while the Mason played with the puppy outside and Keston was sleeping in his crib. She don’t mention that though. Ain’t no reason to. 

Daryl hands the gun to her with a shake of his head, “Them dogs gonna get ate by Walkers.”

“Why it sound like ya care more ‘bout dogs than people?” Coretta raises an eyebrow as she checks the gun’s safety and tucks it away in her waistband. 

“Fuck off, woman. Go back ta yer damn truck,” He scowls at her real quick.

Coretta raises her hands in surrender, “Ain’t no need ta get all pissy. Yer free ta play with the dogs whenever ya want.”

Coretta grins as he starts cussing at her back while she walks away. She got what she came over for with minimal yelling and she counts that as a fuckin’ win. He can cuss to his heart’s content now. She don’t mind none. 

Coretta comes back to screaming in the fuckin’ farmhouse. She don’t even need to go inside to have an idea of what’s happened. Miss Beth decided she wanna die and sounds like Maggie is taking extreme issue with it while Lori chews Andrea’s ass out for encouragin’ the attempt. Coretta don’t like suicide talk and makes the executive decision that she ain’t touching that situation with a ten foot pole. Let the girl’s family deal with it. Let Lori tell the blonde bitch off. If Coretta gets involved she’s gonna slap the shit outta the blonde for encouraging a grieving teenager to kill herself. Ain’t what the fuck an adult is supposed to tell a kid. Ain’t supposed to do that at all. 

Coretta eyes the kids playing as she goes to put the gun in the truck like she agreed with Hershel. Until he gives her permission, she ain’t about to go back on their agreement. It ain’t her way if she don’t have to. 

She leans against her truck and just watches the kids for a bit. Carl ain’t there. She don’t know where the boy went, but she figures his momma probably knows so she ain’t gonna raise hell ‘bout it. Besides, she hears a car pulling up. Guess that means they’ve gotten rid of their little hostage. Coretta tips her head back to watch the car pull up. As soon as she sees them pull the kid back out of the damn truck, she groans a bit in fuckin’ irritation. Looks like that dumbass decision to kidnap a kid ain’t been fuckin’ resolved after all. What the _fuck_ is wrong now that they brought him back?

Coretta does light a cigarette this time and wanders over to watch as they throw the kid in the barn. This just looks like a damn mess. There’s minor chaos as everyone realizes Rick and Shane brought the kid back and they so kindly tell ‘em the kid went to school with Maggie. So he knows exactly where they are most likely. Small town schools are fuckin’ like that. Everyone knowin’ everything about everyone. 

“Momma? He a bad guy?” Coretta startles a bit at Keston piping up beside her. 

Coretta glances down at the little boy and then back over to the barn, watching curiously as Daryl goes in alone, “Hard ta say, baby. That’s what we gotta find out.”

“How we gonna do that?” Mason is holding onto Molly-dog’s collar and looking at the barn like he wants to go in it. 

“Y’all ain’t gonna do nothin’, let the grown ups handle it. Why don’t y’all take Sophia and go find Carl? Boy needs to burn some energy after bein’ in bed so long,” Coretta suggests with a light shove towards where the girl was standing a ways away with her momma. Coretta waits until the boys are suitably distracted and everyone is busy worrying themselves silly to go wander over to the barn. She’s mostly bored, mostly curious and she’s thinking of those men in the woods she’d hid from. 

She hesitates a bit when she hears the all too familiar sound of a fist meeting flesh and the kid crying out and begging for it to end. Gives her a bit of a flashback to childhood. She shakes that off and slips inside to witness. The kid is talkin’ fast and Daryl’s hand is dripping blood and his knife is in the kid’s bad leg. She takes a drag of her cigarette as Daryl’s head whips around to glare at her, “Fuck ya doin’ in here, woman? Ya don’t need ta see this shit.”

Coretta’s eyes slide from his face to the swollen, busted up one of the kid, “Ya answerin’ his questions honestly, honey? Shame if ya had ta get beat silly ‘cause ya thought Lyin’ was smart.”

Daryl is staring at her like she’s grown a second head and the boy starts talking all hopeful to her, “I am! I swear, ma’am! Please, ya gotta help me, he’s crazy!”

Coretta nods real slow and looks at Daryl’s bloody hand, “Whatcha tell him so far? I’d love ta know.”

Daryl answers for the kid, “Got thirty fuckin’ men. With heavy fuckin’ artillery. Ya missed his fuckin’ story ‘bout what they do ta women.”

Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette and walks slowly over to crouch by the kid’s face, “What’s yer name, sweetie?”

“Ran-Randall,” kid sounds half hopeful and half nervous. 

“Randall? What story ya been tellin’ ta piss Mr. Dixon off so bad?” She keeps her voice calm and sweet, she has questions and she wants answers, but honey and flies and all that good shit. Worst comes to worst, well, Daryl seems to be doing a fine job making vinegar work. 

“The— uh, the group I was with— not me— I swear I didn’t— found a guy with his two, uh—“ Randall cuts off as Daryl shifts dangerously behind them. 

“Two what?” Coretta keeps her voice sweet even as she can feel herself get irritated as she thinks of what this kid is saying so far and what she heard in the woods, “It’s alright, sweetie, so long as yer honest, I won’t let him hurt ya no more.”

Randall’s eyes dart to Daryl and back to her like he doesn’t know who to focus on, “His two, uh, his two teenage daughters.”

Coretta don’t like the way his eyes glaze over as he thinks about it. She don’t like that shit at all, “Did they rape ‘em, Randall? That what yer sayin’?”

His eyes clear and she supposes he’s starting to figure out how false her kindness is at the fuckin’ moment, “I— I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

She tilts her head a bit and gives him the look she gives Mason when she’s trying to get him to tell her something he did wrong, “Did ya enjoy watchin’? Ya seem like ya may have. Remember, honesty keeps ya in one piece.”

Randall shakes his head, “No, no I swear I didn’t.”

Coretta sighs, “Y’know, when me and my brothers lied, or if he even just _thought_ we did, our daddy would get real mad. Didn’t like that shit at all. Y’know what he would do?”

“I— I don’t know?”

She takes one more drag of her cigarette and lets him stew a minute, “Well, lyin’ is a sin, ya see. And sinnin’ gets ya sent ta hell, right? So he liked ta give us a taste of what’s waitin’ for sinners. So he’d burn us with cigarettes ‘til we went hoarse from screamin’ and beggin’ and snot was runnin’ down our faces. Funny thing was, he didn’t even _believe_ in heaven or hell.”

Randall is begging now, “Please no, no— please don’t. Please— I swear, I swear I’m not lying!”

Coretta shrugs not believing him for a second, “Consider this yer freebie. I just have two questions for ya, and I’ll leave ya be. How’s that sound, sweetie?”

“I— I won’t lie, I swear. I ain’t gonna, please don’t burn me!” Kid looks about ready to piss himself just thinking of it. Coretta thinks he’s overreacting. Of course, she’d built quite the tolerance to cigarette burns as she grew up. Not as much as Jesse had, but enough she didn’t cry from ‘em by the time she left. 

“Woman, the fuck ya doin’?” Daryl sounds half rabid behind her as he finally breaks in. 

Coretta just waves a hand at him and keeps her eyes on Randall, “Were ya with this group from the get go?”

“No, no I met ‘em on the road, I swear I ain’t lyin’,” Randall’s staring at her cigarette like it’s gonna come to life and burn him without her consent. 

“I believe ya, don’t ya worry,” Coretta smooths her hand over his sweaty, dirty hair like she would her boys, “See, I’m just askin’ ‘cause about six weeks ago, I heard some men in the woods talkin’ by the river. I hid in a clay root, it’s why they ain’t find me. They were talkin’ ‘bout women. What they wanted ta do ta some. So when’d ya join the group?”

“I wasn’t there. It wasn’t me! I swear, I— I joined ‘em three weeks ago!” Randall sounds like he’s in hysterics as Daryl makes a noise behind her. 

“Oh, I believe ya, see, that little incident happened two weeks ago. Thank ya for yer honesty,” Coretta stands up and stretches, cigarette dangling from her lips. 

Daryl is glaring at her silently and she nods to him as she goes to leave, “Sorry for interruptin’ yer fun. Just wanted an answer ta my question. Hope ya understand.”

He doesn’t say a word back, but the sound of a foot hitting a body and Randall gasping in pain follows her out the doors. Coretta don’t look at the group as she walks by to go check her sons. She got her answer to her question. She ain’t sure if this Randall kid was with the men she overheard, but if they’re part of the same group, Coretta ain’t got much in the way of sympathy for him. She may not approve of torture, but she don’t care enough to make it stop. Not for a kid who fuckin’ _likes_ to watch women and girls get raped. She finds she can live with knowing she didn’t even try to make it stop. 


	18. Chapter 18

Meeting number two is tense. Coretta listens lazily as she keeps one eye on the kids. The dogs are wandering in and out of the group as Rick makes the decision to kill Randall. Dale don’t take that well at all. He’s arguing hard against it and Coretta don’t understand. Ain’t like the death penalty wasn’t a thing before the apocalypse and they ain’t got no jails. It’s nicer than leaving him as Corpse food too. He don’t much approve of Daryl’s little interrogation either or the fact she hadn’t interceded to stop it. Coretta don’t say a word when he brings up her part in it, just blinks long and slow like a cat and plays with the ends of her hair, entirely unrepentant. She didn’t instigate that little incident. She sure as shit wasn’t gonna try to talk Daryl down when he looked like he was tryin’ not to outright murder the kid. She ain’t interested in inadvertently pushing the man to actual murder. She don’t know him well enough to think her opinion woulda been enough to stop that beating. 

Coretta goes off to make arrows and keep an eye on the kids while Dale runs on after Rick and keeps trying to get that Randall kid a pardon. She sits cross legged in the grass and works away on one of the sticks she picked out while the dogs lay around her and Mason and Keston play hide and seek with Sophia. Carl’s disappeared again and Coretta don’t know if he’s playing too and is just good at hiding or if he’s off doing his own thing. Coretta watches Carol run off after Daryl while Shane stalks off to his car. She ain’t sure what everyone is supposed to be doing while they wait for this little execution, but she ain’t about to ask. She needs arrows, not drama. 

Coretta is through her fifth arrow and her boys are still running around like little wild things as if they ain’t capable of running outta energy when Carol comes walking over, stopping just a few feet away. Coretta offers the woman a smile, “Yes ma’am?”

“Why didn’t you try to stop him?”

“Hm?” Coretta cocks her head. 

“Daryl. Why did you go in there and just let it happen?”

“Didn’t see a reason ta stop it. Kid didn’t deserve my help. And Daryl’s a grown man I only met two days ago. Ain’t my place ta be tellin’ him what ta do. Ain’t like he’d listen if I tried,” Coretta goes back to what she’s doing. 

“You didn’t even try?”

“Nah. Not like it’d change nothin’. He already beat the kid when I went in there, can’t take it back,” Coretta tests the point of the arrow in her hand. Not quite sharp enough. 

“Daryl is a good man. He shouldn’t have had to do that. You could have stopped him,” Carol sounds like she really wants to believe that. 

“Maybe he is. He still ain’t mine ta order ‘round. I ain’t ‘bout ta waste breath talkin’ ta a brick wall. Why ya so upset by it?” Coretta glances up at the woman. 

“I just don’t think it’s right,” Carol sounds a bit defeated. 

“Ain’t much right in the world,” Is all Coretta says back. Torture is probably the least of the terrible things this world has to offer nowadays. 

“Guess so, didn’t it bother you though?” Carol pushes. 

“Seen worse. Wish it hadn’t been needed, but ain’t much ta be done for it,” Coretta drawls. 

“Could you try to talk to Daryl about it? He got angry when I tried. Maybe he’d be more willin’ to open up to you,” Carol says it like Coretta is willin’ to play devil’s advocate for the redneck’s conscience or some dumb shit. 

“Y’know him better than me. If he ain’t gonna talk ta ya, I doubt he’ll talk ta me,” Coretta points out. Just ‘cause he brought her into the group don’t mean he’s her friend or nothing. She’s pretty sure she and her kids are some kinda obligation or something to him though. Like he’s tryin’ to repay a debt he didn’t want in the first place. 

“Well, if you change your mind, I think you should. And thank you for keeping an eye on Sophia too,” Carol smiles in the direction of her daughter whose chasing Mason as fast as she can. Looks like she’s trying to throw something at him. Lord only knows what her boy did to cause that. 

“Of course, it’s nice ta watch the kids be kids. They ain’t able ta do that ‘nough anymore,” Coretta’s face softens at the sight of her sons being able to enjoy life a little bit. Mason had become so serious while they were at the shack. Having other children around is definitely helping him relax again. 

Coretta watches the woman slip off again and is content to return to what she’s doing in peace. She wants to make as many arrows as she can. More she’s got, happier she is. Coretta keeps one eye on the kids and one eye on what’s she doing as she’s left on her own again. She can see Dale on occasion running around from person to person. Every single one. Guess he’s trying to get a pardon for their little prisoner. She doubts he’s gonna pull a miracle like that outta his ass, but she’ll give him props for determination. For an old man, he’s sure fired up. 

Coretta smiles as Keston comes running over to her, “Momma! Look what I found!”

Coretta holds a hand out so he can drop whatever it is in it. It’s a shiny rock. That’s kinda shaped like a duck. If she squints real, real hard. She leans forward and kisses his forehead, “It’s very pretty, good job. Where’d ya find it?”

“By Mister Daryl’s stuff,” Keston chirps dutifully. 

She blinks, she hadn’t seen him run off, “Baby, don’t be goin’ that far off alone ‘gain, okay? And don’t be botherin’ Daryl, He’s a busy man.”

“But he didn’t make me leave,” Keston tilts his head like a little bird and his pretty brown eyes go wide as can be. 

“That was nice of him, next time ask first, alright?” Coretta don’t need her babies getting underfoot or running off. That ain’t gonna work for her one bit. 

Keston scrunches up his face but nods, “Alright, Momma. Why’s his hand all messed up?”

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t nothin’ ta worry yerself over.”

Keston looks confused in the way kids do when they don’t understand adult things, “Oh. Can I see the bad guy?”

“No, baby, ya stay away from him, ya hear me?” Coretta gives him a sharp look of warning. She don’t want him anywhere near that kid. 

“Why not?”

“He’s bad. Might get ya. Don’t go messin’ with him,” Coretta’s voice goes hard, “I mean it, Keston, leave it be.”

Keston looks like he’s ‘bout to pull a Mason and try to argue with her, but thinks better of it at the last second, “Fine, can I go play more?”

“No more runnin’ off,” Coretta watches him run straight to Mason. He left the rock in her hand. Coretta smiles a bit to herself at the sight of the silly little thing her little son had been so happy to give her and tucks it away in her pocket. Keston might be runnin’ low on manners, but he’s a real momma’s boy. Mason too, but he don’t do things like this anymore. Thinks he’s a man now that Wade ain’t around and wants to do the protecting. Keston, though, is still little enough and innocent enough of the world to think a funny looking rock makes a good gift for his momma. Coretta already mourns the day he outgrows doing it. 

Coretta watches Sophia trying to teach her boys some kinda paddy-cake looking game. Mason looks bored outta his mind but Keston is about dying of laughter. Coretta starts on a few shorter arrows for Mason’s compound bow. Figures he could use a few too. Just in case. She hums to herself as she works. The steady rhythm of the work calming as can be. If it weren’t for it being the apocalypse and her joining up with a group that’s keepin’ a prisoner, she’d almost be able to relax. As it is, her eyes keep searching the tree line for danger. Keeps looking for whatever is due to go wrong next. 

Dale is the thing to ruin the peace for her. Seems he’s decided it’s her turn to listen to him preach amnesty for their little prisoner. She sets the knife and arrows aside and leans back on her palms to wait for him to speak. It’s a staring contest for a moment before he begins, “Coretta, I don’t know you well, I’ll admit that, but you saved Sophia. You took care of her like she was yours when you didn’t have to. Surely, condoning the torture and execution of a kid— a boy— can’t be something you can be okay with. It’s clear you’re a caring person. A _decent_ one. You have to see this is wrong.”

Coretta looks at the old man, it’s easy to see he’s as close to begging as old men get. She looks off at her boys, trying to get Sophia to climb a tree with them, and sighs, “Dale, ya mean well, ya do, but what’s the alternative? We can’t keep him, I won’t have a boy like that near _any_ of the children and leaving him alone and crippled is a slow death sentence. Execution’s kindest, cruel as it seems.”

“You don’t believe that. We don’t know he’s guilty of anything, we don’t know if he’d ever do anything, we have to give him a chance,” Dale implores, “We gave you one.”

Coretta’s eyes narrow, “I didn’t watch two young girls get raped and get off on watchin’ it. He _did._ Ya think a person like that changes? They don’t. They just get worse, they eventually get up the nerve ta try it themselves.”

“You won’t even _consider_ the possibility of redemption? We can’t just kill anyone we don’t know. If we cross this line, we can’t go back,” He sounds desperate.

“Capital punishment been a thing for decades, ain’t crossin’ no line that ain’t been crossed before,” Coretta shakes her head, dirty blonde hair falling out of her face as she does. 

“We aren’t the government though! We can’t make decisions like that! Who are we if we do?” 

“Might as well be the government considerin’ government ain’t a thing no more. I’d say we’re survivors,” She shrugs, “Could always castrate him, I suppose. If ya don’t wanna kill him. Bible does say ta cut off yer hand if it pisses ya off. Think it applies here.”

Dale stares aghast at her, as if she didn’t just offer him an alternative to outright execution that would let him keep the kid as a pet if he wants him so bad. Coretta don’t see what the issue is. Sarcastic or not, she wouldn’t be opposed to makin’ a eunuch outta mister Randall. She don’t pay Dale anymore attention as he goes on his way. She thinks she’s made her stance clear enough for anyone who cares to ask her. However this shit ends, Coretta ain’t worried. She’s damn confident they ain’t gonna keep the little fucker in the barn. 


	19. Chapter 19

Meeting three comes around in the evening. The kids are all left outside while the adults file into the farmhouse dining room. Coretta don’t much like that, but she figures fifteen minutes ain’t enough time for anything to happen. Ain’t like she wasn’t leaving them alone at the shack for hours before. Coretta feels a bit bad watching Dale try to argue for Randall’s life. Feels real bad watching Glenn refuse to back him up, but she ain’t bout to change her vote to appease an old man. 

Coretta listens patiently as people try to suggest alternatives, she figures she can throw her two cents in around here, “Could always use my idea, Dale, since ya wanna keep him so bad.”

Rick twists around to look at her and Daryl looks like he’s wary as hell of what’s about to come outta her mouth, as if he can even guess where she’s going. Rick makes a gesture, “And what’s your suggestion?”

“Dale seems ta want himself a pet rapist. I say castration ain’t a bad idea,” She drawls it out. 

T-dog blanches, “That’s fucked up, damn.”

Rick shakes his head, “No, no, we aren’t doing that.”

“Be doin’ the whole fucked world a favor,” Coretta points out. 

“No. Ain’t doin’ that,” Rick gives her a stern look. 

“Best ta kill ‘em then. Turnin’ him loose is a slow death sentence for the kid at best, at worst he lives and becomes some other women’s problem,” Coretta picks dirt out from under her nails as she points that one out. 

“Girl has some damn common sense! She ain’t even been here two days and even she gets it, Dale!” Shane snaps out and Coretta can’t help be irritated at having to side with the dumb fuck. 

The conversation devolves from there as everyone starts debating how to go about an execution. What to do so the the body. If it’d be quick. Carol runs on out as Dale starts arguing again. Dale seems absolutely disgusted with the group and begins to rant about how this is admitting civilization has ended, which in her humble opinion, it has. Hiding from it won’t magically make the damn world start working again. 

When he asks if anyone is gonna watch, Coretta pipes up again. Just because she’s feelin’ a bit bitchy, “Sure, I’ll watch. Ain’t see no issues with makin’ sure a threat is gone.”

There’s a bit of a silence in the room while Dale whips around to stare at her, “Think of the example you’re setting for your boys.”

“I am.” Coretta offers no more than that. 

That seems to end the conversation. Dale just shakes his head and declares the group is broken. That leaves an uncomfortable silence in its wake that’s only broken by Rick saying they’ll take care of it tonight. Coretta takes that as her cue to leave, she don’t need to hear the rest. 

They’ve got a couple hours until the execution, Since Rick wants to do it at night, as if that’ll hide what it is, and her boys are napping in the truck bed with the dogs. She figures she’s got enough daylight left to hunt a bit before then, she said she’s bear witness after all. She ain’t about to make herself a liar. 

So that’s what she does. Until sunset she dicks around in the woods and comes back with two birds and a squirrel. Not much, but better than nothing. She figures her boys can keep themselves good and occupied plucking birds and skinning while she’s busy. She whistles sharply to get her boys’ attention and jerks her head towards the truck. Both boys haul their scrawny asses over as fast as their legs can carry them, little Keston trailing his brother by a few feet. 

Coretta sets the kills on the tailgate and looks over at her boys, “Mason, why don’t ya show Keston how ta pluck birds. I gotta go take care of somethin’. Won’t take too long.”

“Carl says his daddy’s gonna kill the bad guy,” Mason pipes up as he climbs into the truck bed while Coretta picks Keston up and plops him down beside his brother. 

Coretta taps her nails on the side of the truck and chews the inside of her mouth. She ain’t about to lie, but she don’t wanna expose them to even more of the bullshit that fills the world. Not now. She sighs, “Y’all don’t be worryin’ over that. It’s adult business, nothin’ for kids ta be concerned over.”

Mason grabs the bigger of the two birds and starts yanking feather, careful not to loose any so she can use them for more arrows later. She can tell he don’t like that answer from the way his eyebrows pull together and he works his jaw side to side like Wade would when he wasn’t happy ‘bout something. He don’t say nothing to her though. Seems content to give her the silent treatment now. 

Keston blinks wide eyes up at her, “Momma? Can I have a bow like Mister Daryl’s?”

Coretta laughs a bit and kisses him on the crown of his head, “Maybe I’ll find ya one when yer big enough ta hold it. Now, help with the birds.”

She waits until she’s sure they’re busy before heading towards where Rick, Shane, and Daryl are waiting outside the barn. No one looks happy and they’re the only ones here. Dale had been right when he accused everyone else of not being willing to see through what they’d decided. Coretta may not approve, but she ain’t gonna think much over it. To each their own and all that good shit. 

Rick looks all tense and shit. Like someone’s shoved a pole up his ass and gave it a good twist. Shane looks like he’s almost excited, she don’t like that. She don’t like him. Daryl eyes her and just shakes his head. Coretta don’t think much of it. She said she’d watch. She’s gonna keep her damn word. No one else seems bothered by her presence. 

Randall is slumped against the wall and Coretta watches silently as his eyes go wide at the sight of them and he starts babbling all desperate as Daryl and Rick drag him to his feet. He’s begging and struggling and crying out and Coretta don’t like the way his eyes go to her like she can help him before Shane’s blindfolding him and shushing him. 

He’s standing all shaky legged in the middle of the barn and begging and crying and Coretta swallows her pity down and leans against one of the wooden posts that keeps the damn barn standing. 

“Would you like to kneel or stand?” Rick sounds like he’s not quite come to terms with what he’s about to do. 

Randall is shaking his head and saying no over and over and over. It’s Daryl that makes the choice for him, coming up behind him and forcing him to his knees before returning to his own spot. Coretta sighs a bit and pulls out a cigarette, seems like this is a good enough reason to be smoking. 

“Final words?” Rick sounds like he’s forcing the words out. 

Randall keeps begging and begging and she ain’t sure what makes him think it’s worth a shot, but he starts talking. To _her._ She just talks a drag as she listens to him pleading, “Ma’am, please! I know you’re here, please ma’am. Ya promised ya wouldn’t let ‘em hurt me if I was honest. I ain’t lie ta ya! I swear, please.”

Daryl hits the side of the stall he’s by, “Hey! Don’t fuckin’ talk ta her!”

Coretta shakes her head though Randall can’t see her, “Honey, I promised if ya were honest, I’d keep _Mr. Dixon_ from hurtin’ ya no more. He ain’t the one with the gun.”

The kid is wimpering and Coretta can smell urine as the sound of Rick’s gun cocking hits her ear drums. Coretta just keeps smoking to keep calm even has her heart starts picking up the pace and that gun raises to be nice and level with Randall’s head. Won’t be much longer now. Coretta figures this is gonna haunt her dreams awhile along with all the other shit she’s seen, but she don’t look away. Don’t even blink as Rick’s finger moves to the trigger. She just stares at Randall’s head and blows smoke rings out. 

“Do it, dad, do it,” Carl’s voice breaks the tension and Coretta’s head whips around when she hears Mason hiss at Carl to shut the fuck up. _Oh,_ she’s gonna kill ‘em. Keston ‘bout to be an only fuckin’ child. 

Her son is behind Carl and all she can hear is the roaring in her ears as Rick makes Shane and Daryl take the kid away and Rick grabs his son and drags him off. Mason looks guiltier than a priest caught with a whore as she stares at him. She can’t form any damn words she’s so fuckin’ mad. Just stares in disbelief at her son. How fuckin’ _dare_ he think he was allowed to do this shit. 

“Momma?” Mason’s voice is tiny and she can tell already he knows he fucked up. Knows he weren’t supposed to be down here, was trying to be all fuckin’ sneaky and the only reason he got caught was ‘cause of Carl’s big fuckin’ mouth. 

Coretta real calmly puts her cigarette out on the pole she was leaning against and ignores Daryl and Shane slipping by, the former pausing long enough to look between her and her son. She don’t even look over at the man, this ain’t his concern. She pushes off the pole and walks towards her son, “Get yer butt back ta the goddamn truck, right now.”

Coretta watches him run like hell is after him back to her pick up. Watches him climb up into it with Keston. She don’t know where Mason gets off thinking this was okay, but Coretta needs to take her time walking over there to calm the fuck down before she deals with this little transgression. She don’t even know how to verbalize to the kid why the hell she’s so damn pissed off. She needs a moment, needs to figure out what the fuck to say and how the fuck to say it. Needs a good fuckin’ punishment too. She can’t let shit like this slide. Coretta paces back and forth and has the urge to scream and curse for one wild moment the way she did back before she had kids and did her level best to get her shit together. She ends up slamming a palm against the barn wall a few times before staring up at the sky. What fuckin’ _bullshit._

She takes a few deep breathes and turns to go to the truck. Time to talk to her boy, figure out what the fuck he was thinking. She only gets about twenty feet when the screaming starts out in the pasture. She don’t think before she takes off towards the noise. Her dogs are barking up a storm by her truck but her boys are smart enough to stay there, especially after pissing her off. She’s one of the last to arrive and she thanks God her boys didn’t come running too. 

It’s Dale. It’s the old man she didn’t know that well but thought was nice enough, if a bit too desperate to hold onto the old world. His stomach is torn open and Coretta can’t decide what’s worse. The sight of his guts all torn up and hanging out or the look of pure animalistic pain and terror on his face. She just stares in silence. It’s horrifying. She’s no stranger to gutted animals, but those were already dead, and they were animals. This ain’t _anything_ like that shit. Coretta doesn’t even have the mind to smoke even has her hands shake at the sight of this. 

She stares and stares and stares and people cry and scream and Hershel declares it’s a hopeless case. Ain’t nothin’ to be done for the man. He might as well be  dead already. Watching Rick aim a gun at the man’s head makes her wanna look away. 

Watching Daryl take the gun and aim it real carefully at the man’s head and say real somberly, “Sorry, Brother,” makes her choke a little. 

But hearing that gunshot and watching that bullet go through Dale’s head makes her heart stop for a moment. Coretta ain’t had to think about what to do if someone were to get too badly hurt, if they were to get bit. She ain’t had to think about that yet. Isolation had protected her from that. She ain’t got that anymore and it feels like someone’s ripped a blindfold off her and is screaming at her to see what the world is. Coretta suddenly don’t have it in her to yell at Mason tonight. She don’t even have the energy to speak. She just don’t. 


	20. Chapter 20

There’s a funeral for Dale the next morning. Coretta and her boys stand off to the side as it happens. Mason is as subdued as he always is when she has to get onto him. She’d done that earlier, while the grave was being dug. They listen in silence as Rick offers a eulogy. When he ends it by saying they won’t be killing Randall, Coretta just looks down at the grave. It’s the wrong call, but she ain’t in the mood to be arguing it. Wrong time, wrong place for it. 

What comes next is what Coretta thinks is some kinda revenge killing combined with pest control. Keston is left up in the house with Lori. Everyone else except for a handful of people, Mason included ‘cause Coretta knows he can handle it, pick up weapons and go to work clearing each and every Corpse off Hershel’s land they can find. Coretta keeps Mason close to her as they shoot of arrows, Mason’s missing maybe half the time. His aim is improving. Use to be, he’d miss the mark three times outta four. Quick learner.

Coretta grimaces as she pulls one of her arrows out of a skull and wipes it clean in the grass. Fuckin’ nasty. They’ve been at this shit for hours. All damn day, they’d been doing this and she’s starting to get uneasy by how many they’re finding. It’s like the woods are filling up slowly. Coretta don’t trust that shit. 

It finally ends and the smell of burning corpses starts filling the air as the men start dragging bodies to burn piles. It’s a nasty smell thanks to the decay of the bodies, but take that away and it smells like cooked meat. Which is off putting as hell to her. 

Hershel’s response to last night’s incident is to stuff the farmhouse full of people. Coretta understands it, but fuck, it’s gonna be a tight as shit squeeze. Ain’t something that’s gonna be comfortable, that’s for damn sure. Hershel even tells her to bring the dogs inside at night, something that gets the kids all worked up and happy. Coretta doesn’t unpack the truck. She’s got a bad feeling and settles for taking her and her kids’ blankets inside. If the feeling passed and nothing happens, she’ll unpack a bit more. She and the boys and the dogs end up set up in the far corner of the living room. It’s a tight squeeze with the entire group in the house, but she can tell everyone feels better being close together. Like sheep. Safety in numbers and all that good shit. 

From there it’s quiet. Some of them take shifts watching the prisoner while others go to work building makeshift roosts to keep watch from. Coretta ends up moving cars up to the house with Carol. Making sure they’re close the way her truck is. She doesn’t much enjoy it, but it’s fine, it needs to be done. Don’t take long either and Coretta goes to check the boys and calls a greeting T-dog as he passes by her on the way to check the prisoner. Coretta’s unease is still there and she ends up saying fuck it and unlocking her truck as a just in case after seeing her boys running after Daryl like lost puppies. The man don’t seem bothered, but still. She probably shouldn’t leave the short tempered man being chased after by her boys. 

Red and Lucy amble along beside her as Coretta whistles sharply to get the boys to pay attention, “Y’all botherin’ Daryl?”

Mason has already recovered from getting into trouble and gives her a bright grin, “Yeah, Momma! Look! I’m missin’ a tooth now!”

Coretta squints and walks over, sure enough, he’s lost one of the teeth near the front, “When’d that happen?”

“It was loose! Daryl helped yank it!” Mason looks like he thinks having a tooth removed was great fun. 

“It was real nasty, Momma! All bloody and gross,” Keston’s nose scrunches up like he hasn’t been happily learning to gut and skin things. 

Coretta raises an eyebrow as she glances over at the man working away on his motorcycle, “Did y’all thank the man for his help?”

Daryl snorts a little as her boys chirp that they did. Coretta should probably check with him they ain’t an issue, “Hope they ain’t causin’ ya problems. I can take ‘em inside if need be.”

“Ain’t shootin’ arrows at me no more. They’re fine,” he grunts out as he keeps his eyes on the motorcycle. 

She nods a bit and goes to respond when she’s cut off by T-dog shouting that Randall’s escaped. Fuck. Her eyes go to her boys and she snaps out, “Both y’all inside, now. Stay there.”

As soon as they start running that way, Coretta takes off after Daryl as everyone converges on the barn and T-dog. The dogs are wound up as hell in all the excitement and Coretta snaps at them to settle as everyone takes in the sight of the empty fuckin’ handcuffs. If he yanked his hands loose, dumb fuck will have two broken thumbs at best. Ain’t much a man can do without thumbs she don’t think. 

Coretta don’t like this at all, “How’d he get out? Weren’t we lockin’ him in?”

“We were,” Rick confirms as he lifts the empty handcuffs and stares at them. 

“Is it even possible to break outta handcuffs?” Carol questions. 

Andrea nods, “If you’re determined enough.”

Coretta agrees, “Gotta be willin’ ta break yer thumbs. If the door was locked, how’d he get out? Ain’t nothin’ broken.”

Daryl looks up from the ground to eye her but doesn’t say anything before Shane comes outta the damn woods all bloody faced and shouting that the scrawny little hostage with broken thumbs got the jump on him. Coretta ain’t feelin’ good about this shit at all. From the way Daryl’s squinting at Shane, she don’t think he’s feelin’ good about it either. 

Rick starts shouting orders and Coretta tips her head to the side, “Y’all wanna borrow Red and Lucy? ‘nough blood on those cuffs ta catch our friend’s scent.”

Rick turns to look at her and the dogs for a second, and shakes his head, “No, go back to the house, keep everyone safe.”

Coretta inclines her head, she’d rather guard the damn house anyway, better than marching ‘round the woods looking for a kid that’s escaped under real fishy fuckin’ circumstances. She eyes Shane and has a feelin’ his case of rabies is finally getting the better of him. She ain’t interested in being ‘round him when he snaps. She just thought she’d offer. Actually put herself to use for the group.

She whistles to call her hounds to her and makes sure to keep her distance from Shane as she heads back. She’s got too many suspicions ‘bout him and one threat from him already. She ain’t gettin’ any closer to him than she absolutely fuckin’ needs to be. Coretta stops by her truck on the way to the farmhouse and grabs her deer rifle, puts the two rounds it holds in it and fills her pockets with extra rounds. Just Incase. 

She doubts she’s gonna need a single bullet, but she figures better safe than sorry. Her compound bow ain’t got the range of her rifle. So she puts that up and heads to the house. The gun is a familiar feeling in her hands. Reminds her of when Wade would take her deer hunting. He’d been the one to teach her to use a gun when they were around fifteen. Had crowed like a damned rooster when she shot her first deer. She thinks he’d been more pleased than she had. 

Coretta ends up leaning on the porch railing with her gun in her hand and all three dogs at her feet. She ain’t gonna think ‘bout how damn country hick she must look at the moment. She watches the tree line and waits. The unease is building and she hopes like hell whatever the fuck Shane pulled, ain’t no one gonna die ‘cause of it. Coretta has a feeling shit gonna get nasty when whatever Shane did comes to light. Rabid dogs ain’t ever fun to deal with. 


	21. Chapter 21

Keston and Mason have joined her on porch awhile after sunset. She strokes Mason’s hair with one hand while Keston holds onto her jeans. The boys don’t know exactly why she’s all twitchy but they sure as shit know now ain’t the time for fuckin’ ‘round. They ain’t ‘bout to do anything they ain’t supposed to right now. Hell, they ain’t even talking. Just standing there with her, waiting for shit to go to hell. Ain’t family bonding fuckin’ great?

Coretta narrows her eyes as two figures finally appear. Just two. She taps her fingers against the railing she’s leaning against and hushes Red as he starts huffing like he wants to bay at the people. She relaxes minutely when she sees its Glenn and Daryl. They look bothered as fuck. 

Coretta calls out to ‘em when they get close, “Y’all find him?”

Glenn nods and Daryl huffs out, “Already dead too.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “How convenient.”

“Yeah, are Rick and Shane back?” Glenn questions her. 

“Nah. Y’all beat ‘em.” Coretta turns and ushers the boys inside behind the men as they get to the door. She leans in the front door as everyone comes to see what’s happening. Daryl leans against the wall beside her and explains what they found. Dead by a broken neck. Still up and walkin’ ‘round. Coretta don’t like that information. Don’t like it at all. So people don’t need to get bit to turn and Randall’s neck got snapped. Necks don’t just snap. Coretta don’t need a college degree to know that much. 

Coretta looks over at Daryl when everyone else goes off to a different room, “Y’all’s boy did some sketchy shit, y’know that, right?”

He pauses adjusting his crossbow and looks at her, “Lookin’ that way, ain’t it? Fuck’re we supposed ta do ‘bout it?”

“Not much now. That baby of Lori’s... it Rick’s?” Coretta thinks hard about how pissy Shane would get at the reminder of who is and who ain’t married to the woman. Rabid dogs shouldn’t be left alone with someone too dumb to see they’re rabid. 

Daryl narrows his eyes, “Fuck if I know, might be, probably ain’t. Why?”

“First day, ya warned me ta be careful ‘round Shane. Don’t think I’m the one that should be careful is all,” Coretta watches her boys watch the window. 

“Gonna get yerself killed doin’ all this thinkin’,” he grunts out. 

“Well, that happens, Yer gonna get saddled with my brats, since they like ya so much and all,” Coretta jokes, trying to keep herself relaxed as they wait. 

Daryl glares at her and shakes his head, “Give ‘em ta Carol, she owes ya for keepin’ Sophia alive.”

Coretta twitches as Red starts barking, “True.”

Lucy and Molly-dog start barking too. Loud as shit. Fuck. She steps out onto the porch to tell them to shut up and Daryl steps out and walks to the edge of the porch, squinting real hard into the dark. Coretta follows his gaze and her heart drops. Holy _fuckin’_ shit, sweet baby Jesus. What looks like dozens of Corpses are coming outta the tree line. Coretta’s breath catches in her throat as they just keep coming. 

Daryl yells at everyone in the house what’s happening and Coretta finally finds the words to tell the dogs to shut up. She needs to get the boys. Needs to get them the fuck out of here. Ain’t no way in hell they can put down that many. 

Coretta grabs her rifle and goes in the house, calling the dogs in with her. Hershel kills the lights and Coretta can’t help it, she snaps, “Ain’t no lights gonna help, that many? We’re fucked if we stay.”

Hershel is calmly loading a shotgun, “This is my farm, I won’t leave.”

Coretta chokes at the sheer stupid pride of the man and turns to everyone else, “Y’all, this shit ain’t gonna work.”

“We’ll pick off what we can, use the cars ta draw the rest away,” Daryl’s voice is sharp, “Get all the kids, throw ‘em in yer truck, get ‘em outta here if ya gotta.”

“I can’t find Carl— I won’t leave without Carl!” Lori’s eyes are huge and she looks like she’s about to lose her shit as Coretta rounds up her boys and Sophia when Carol ushers the panicked looking girl to her. 

Andrea looks panicked too, and pissed, “We’ll find him, we won’t leave him.”

Coretta just mutters cuss words under her breath as she gets the kids ready to run. How the hell that Carl brat ain’t dead is beyond her. He ain’t ever where he should be. 

“Barn’s on fire,” Glenn points it out dumbly as he and Maggie start loading their own guns to go drive a car ‘round shooting Corpses. 

Coretta really don’t give a shit about the damn barn. Ain’t like they gonna be able to use it again after the Corpse move the fuck in. She can hear Carol assuring Lori that that’s probably Rick and Carl or something. Coretta just keeps moving, picks Keston up and gets the kids outta the house and wants to scream at how many fuckin’ Corpses there are. She needs to get them to the truck, but the sight of this freezes her in her tracks for a moment. There ain’t no way they’re gonna make it through the night. 

Daryl seems to disagree with her assessment and shoves her in the back towards her truck, “Fuck, woman, get those damned kids in the fuckin’ truck! Now!”

Coretta breaks outta her daze and tells the kids to run, calls the dogs fast as she can and she doesn’t think she’s ever run so fuckin’ fast in her life. She’s practically flinging kids and dogs into her truck. The Corpses are close now and she has to haul ass around her truck to keep from not being able to go at all. As soon as she’s in, she hands the rifle to Mason and tells him to give her her handgun. It’s a quick trade and she flicks the safety off as she’s twisting the key in the ignition. 

“Y’all, we’ll be fine. Sophia, Keston, keep yer heads down. Mason, baby, if I tell ya to shoot, can you do that for me?”

Mason clutches that deer rifle like it’s a lifeline, his jaw is set and despite the fear in his eyes, he nods decisively, “Yes, Momma.”

“Good,” Coretta throws the truck into reverse and hits the gas, putting as much distance between them and the Corpses as she can, the barn fire is lighting up the damn sky and showing her hundred of fuckin’ Corpses filling the farm up. Shots are being fired from cars and trucks and Daryl’s motorcycle as they try to mitigate the damage as best they can. Coretta hisses a breath out and rolls her window down, firing at the Corpses in front of the truck to clear a path. She ain’t ‘bout to sit here and wait for death. 

Coretta ignores her dogs barking and the kids crying and hits the gas. She hits a few corpses and keeps driving, shooting at anything she can get a clear shot at while she looks for a way out. She cusses when her rounds run out and rolls Mason’s window down enough he can shoot, “Baby, I need ya ta shoot now.”

Mason don’t need another word and goes to work, grunting with every kick of the gun that’s too big for him. She digs through her pockets and dumps more rounds into the cup holder for him. Coretta tried to drive less like a lunatic as she looks for a way out, any way out. She cusses when she sees Andrea get dragged under by Corpses and decides shits gotten too far gone. It’s time to go. 

She finds an opening and guns it, even as Mason keeps shooting. She has no idea where the fuck she’s going but she hopes it’s the highway or something. It’s the only landmark she can think of. She wants her shack but that shit is fuckin’ gone. The Corpse are coming from that direction, she thinks. She can see others deciding it’s time to fuck off too. She ain’t got a clue how to get to them though, they’re going a different direction and there’s a whole ass herd between her and them. 

“Baby, that’s enough, ya did real well,” Coretta manages to get out as she speeds and swerves through the fucking woods like Jesse on meth. Mason is pale and shaking as he pulls the gun back into the car so she can roll the window up again. Coretta feels like she’s insane as she drives. She’s completely unsure of where she’s going and the woods are crawling with fuckin’ Corpses. 

She drives in what feels like circles, she just needs to find the damn highway. Just needs to get there. She’s got no clue where it is, but she just needs to get to it. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine if she can do that. Coretta can feel herself shaking as she drives and tries to hold her shit together the way she did the night she got the boys to the shack. It’s harder now. She has no idea where she is or how to get where she wants to go and she don’t have a clue where anyone is. 

She wants to cry as she finally finds a dirt road and picks a direction. West. She hopes it’s the right way. She really fuckin’ does. She can’t afford a mistake, not when she’s got the kids with her. She can’t fuck this shit up. 


	22. Chapter 22

She has no idea where they are. She’ll fuckin’ admit it. She is pretty sure she’s going the right way, but she ain’t got a clue how far from the highway they are or if anyone else will be there or where on the highway to go if they are. The dogs have all passed out in the floor boards or stretched out across Sophia and Keston’s lap in a Molly-dog’s case. The kids are silent. Mason is stock still and tense in her passenger seat. Keston is red faced with tear streaks down his cheeks and still trying to hide from sight of Corpses while Sophia breathes hard across from him. Coretta needs a fuckin’ cigarette but she don’t smoke when she’s driving with kids in the car and she sure as shit ain’t pulling over until she finds the group. 

Coretta hits a paved road that ain’t the highway, but that she bets feeds into it eventually, and makes a little noise that’s half relieved and half stressed and she ain’t really sure how the fuck that’s possible, but it is. She’s still driving like a fuckin’ psychopath and has a moment of hysterical joy traffic cops ain’t a thing no more. She’d be goin’ to jail for damn sure if they were. 

She takes a right and hopes she’s not fuckin’ up. Hopes she doesn’t end up driving straight back into that fuckin’ herd. She might lose her fuckin’ mind if she chose the wrong way. She prays like hell she finds their people. She thinks that’s what they are now. Their people. She sure as shit has thrown all her money on it, at least. Just gotta find ‘em again. She can do that. She can fuckin’ do this. 

Coretta don’t know how long she drives before she hits the highway and ends up flying down the wrong side of the damn road, swerving around the cars scattered everywhere and hopin’ like hell she’s going the right way. Mason is holding the oh shit handle above his head and she can feel him look at her every couple seconds. She knows he probably thinks his momma’s fuckin’ lost it, but frankly, she ain’t sure he’s wrong. She’s holding it together by a damn thread. Feels like she’s ‘bout to shake apart with all the damn nervous energy she’s got in her. 

She sees the group way ahead of her, all standing around their cars. She lets off the gas as they notice her truck heading towards them and she wants to cry from joy at the way they’re all pointing and shit. They’re here and they didn’t leave ‘em and it’s fine. Things are fine. Coretta hits the brakes and comes to a stop. Her hands stay clenched around the wheel as her head falls forward to rest on the wheel for a moment and she just breathes even as Sophia scrambles out screaming for her momma. Coretta don’t move even when her car door gets thrown open and Daryl is trying to get her attention. 

She doesn’t move as his hand reaches across her lap and throws the truck into park, just sits and shakes and breathes. Mason and Keston are talking to her and crying respectively and Coretta’s mouth is working but nothing is coming out. A large hand, that just a few days ago hit the ground by her head in an attempt to intimidate her, grips her shoulder and pushes her back against the seat gentle as she thinks he can be. 

It takes her a second but eventually she looks over at Daryl, her eyes having to track up his arm to his face before she can focus on him. His eyes search her face and he rumbles out, “‘bout had ta go find y’all. Anyone hurt? Bit?”

She shakes her head and tries to calm down, “Mason’s shoulder’s probably all bruised up, but that’s all.”

“From shootin’? Saw him goin’ ta town with that damn rifle. C’mon, get outta the truck, ya looked like ya forgot how ta drive pullin’ up.”

Coretta’s hand fumbles for a cigarette and her lighter as she stumbles out, telling her boys to stay in the truck as she does. She wants them ready to go in case they need to run again. Her hands are shaking as she tries to get the damn thing lit and Daryl ends up grabbing the lighter from her and doing it for her. 

She closes her eyes as the smoke fills her lungs and sighs it back out, “Everyone here? I saw Andrea go down, I— I didn’t— didn’t see where anyone else went and I—“

“Patricia and Jimmy’re gone too, Shane’s dead,” Daryl closes her truck door after glancing over her boys. 

“How?” Coretta can’t say she’s happy the man is dead, but she sure as shit ain’t mournin’ him. 

“Missed a lot while ya were on yer little road trip. Man tried ta killed Rick, Rick killed him and we’re all fuckin’ infected,” he adds that last bit with a filthy, pissed off look. 

“What?” She croaks it out. The hell does he mean, they’re all infected?

“Went ta the damn CDC, this Jenner fucker was there, told Rick everyone’s infected. We all got it. Rick been keepin’ it quiet,” Daryl sounds pissed. 

“Fuck.” Coretta mutters as hysterical laughter builds up and they join the rest of the group. She ain’t got shit else to say to that as she starts laughing all nervous and panicked and shit. 

The rest of the group looks a bit startled by her laughter but no one asks her to stop as she runs a shaky hair through her hair. Hershel greets her calmly and asks, “Do you mind if I go check on your sons?”

Coretta makes a helpless, aborted gesture towards the truck, “Go for it, don’t let the dogs out, please.”

Hershel nods and walks off with Beth in tow. The little blonde looks like a fuckin’ wreck and is crying softly. Coretta don’t wanna know why she looks like that. She don’t wanna know the details of how anyone died. It ain’t important and just plain depressing. Dead is dead is dead and knowing how ain’t change that. 

Rick looks like he’s been through the wringer, like someone’s broken something in him and he’s holding it together outta sheer willpower. He’s pacing with his hands on his hips and looks like he’s ‘bout ready to pop off with a temper tantrum or some shit. Or break down crying. Whichever comes first. 

Hershel and Beth rejoin the group, her sons in tow despite her telling them to stay in the truck and she can’t find it in her to be annoyed by that. Just pulls the pair close to her, and smiles tightly at them as her helpless laughter dies off. The whole group looks like hell as they all stand in the middle of the damn highway with no damn idea of what to do now. Carol is holding Sophia as close to her as she can and Lori ain’t lookin’ at Rick as she sits in a car and holds Carl in her lap. Maggie and Glenn are standing shoulder to shoulder and look fuckin’ awful. Maggie’s eyes are all puffy from crying. T-dog is leaning against one car with his arms crossed and jaw clenched. 

“Hell we gonna do now?” T-dog break the tense silence. 

That’s the golden fuckin’ question, ain’t it? Coretta ain’t got a clue besides not fuckin’ die. They need shelter, food, safety. All sorts of things they ain’t got now. She looks around at everyone else for an answer, an idea. She ain’t got a fuckin’ clue where to go now. 

Rick speaks, “We’ll stay here tonight. Make camp.”

“Out in the open?” Carol looks sick at the thought. 

“Anyone have any better ideas?” Rick snaps harshly. 

There’s silence as everyone looks around at each other like idiots, no one really making eye contact with Rick. Glenn is the one that speaks up, “We should keep moving. We need shelter.”

“We’ll find it. We can’t do that tonight, we need to rest,” Rick rebukes instantly. 

“Hard ta rest when we’re out in the open with Corpses creepin’ ‘round,” Coretta mutters. 

“Don’t think we have much of a choice, Coretta, we don’t have the fuel to move tonight,” Hershel says in the careful, thoughtful way he has. 

Coretta hisses her irritation, she has one can of gas that ain’t empty. They’re gonna have to siphon gas from the cars scattered around the road. Ain’t no choice there. Gonna take hours to get enough most likely and Coretta has to admit doing that at night is a shit idea. 

Which is how they all end up huddled around a fire in the fuckin’ woods just off the highway. Coretta’s got the dogs tied down nearby and the boys on either side of her. Ain’t no one seem happy. She stares into the little campfire and waits for dawn. Daryl is nearby her and the boys with Carol holding Sophia on the other and she can hear them talking in low tones. Coretta don’t think Daryl likes their conversation from the irritated tone he’s taking. There’s a noise in the woods and everyone but the dogs gets all twitchy. The dogs just look over ears perked before laying their heads down. Coretta takes that as a sign it’s fine. Then Maggie suggests leaving and Rick gets his panties in a fuckin’ twist. 

The former cop starts ranting ‘bout how he’s done everything for them, how he had ta kill Shane for ‘em, how he didn’t ask for this shit. Coretta raises an eyebrow as he finishes off with a hard spoken, “This isn’t a democracy anymore.”

There’s silence before Coretta breaks it, since she’s got a nice little habit of doin’ that shit, “Well then, Bossman, hope ya got a plan.”


	23. Chapter 23

Coretta decides real quick Rick ain’t got much of a damn plan. Mostly just find a house, try to stay there a night or two, get chased off by fuckin’ Corpses, rinse and repeat. Daryl ends up throwing his bike in her truck bed a month in and takin’ over driving her truck. Tryin’ to save what gas they can siphon, she figures. Her truck bed is filled with shit they don’t bother unloading since they ain’t ever stay somewhere more than a week or two. Her boys basically live in the backseat with the dogs. Everyone is fuckin’ hungry and cold and tired and pissed off. They go through her canned food quick and Coretta starts skipping meals again to keep her kids and the other kids fed. A lot of them are doin’ that. Lori needs food too, ‘cause that baby is sucking the damn life outta her and no food means she’s gonna end up bleeding the baby out if they don’t keep her fed.

More than once, they have to run to the cars in the middle of the damn night ‘cause the damn Corpses or Walkers or whatever they are come knocking. Coretta’s gotten good and used to the sleep deprivation and watching Daryl throw Keston over his shoulder like a sack of grain and running. Man seems to have decided he’s Keston’s bodyguard or some shit. Coretta is a bit confused by it, but let’s it be. Ain’t a bad thing, after all. 

Hunting is a bust half the time. It’s nearly winter and the animals are either hiding out or the Walkers got ‘em already. What they can find is scrawny as shit and more than once Coretta eyes her dogs and wonders how long it’ll be ‘til they’re a valid meal choice. Daryl gets all pissy when she makes that joke and she figures they’ll end up a last resort. 

Every damn day is just move and scavenge and try to get to the next day. Ain’t nothin’ else for the group. Coretta spends a lot of nights wide awake and smoking as she waits for things to go wrong again. Everyone is getting skinny. Even the kids and Lori despite best efforts to keep ‘em fed. 

Winter hits and things get bad. They have to go through Coretta’s little stash of medicines when Sophia gets real sick and Carol starts acting like the little girl is doomed to die. That pisses Coretta off real well and she ends up with Glenn on a four day run looking for more medicine since she apparently ain’t got enough. Nearly gets bit by Walkers about five times doing it and Daryl tells her she shoulda stayed back and let someone else go when he hears. Coretta ends up cussin’ at him for it and they don’t talk for an entire day’s drive. 

Four months in and Lori is showing and Coretta is tense because they only got a few more months before that baby comes and she’s only gonna need more food to keep herself and that baby going. She and Daryl don’t talk much when they’re all driving down the road at first. First time he hears her sing to Keston, some old gospel song she remembers from childhood, he gets even quieter than normal and asks her if she’s religious. 

That makes her laugh softly into Keston’s messy, dirty hair, “Ain’t sure if I am. Daddy sure wasn’t, but my momma believed real hard. Figure one of ‘em is right, just ain’t sure which.”

He nods to that and goes back to focusing on the road. Coretta don’t ask if he believes. He’s prickly even if they’ve adjusted to each other being around, and she don’t wanna piss him off if that’s one of his sore spots. Not when they basically live in the truck together now. 

One night, a few weeks later, Coretta ends up drinkin’ shine while Daryl is driving and her boys sleep in the back. He side eyes her and asks real low, “The hell that come from?”

“Wade’s shine shack, got like ten? Twelve jars of the shit,” Coretta looks down into the clear liquid and wrinkles her nose, “Nasty fuckin’ taste, but it ain’t gonna blind no one.”

“Mason wasn’t jokin’ when he said y’all were in a shine shack,” He shakes his head and follows the group’s damn caravan. 

“Also for huntin’, but ain’t no one really used it for that,” Coretta confirms. 

“Wade yer husband?” 

“Sure was, went huntin’ with my brother few days before all this shit started, never picked up my calls or showed up,” Coretta ignores the pang at the reminder of her loss, she still ain’t had time to grieve Wade or Jesse. 

“Ya mentioned brothers. How many ya got?”

“Two. One, now, if he ain’t dead,” Coretta sips on the moonshine as she answers. She don’t like talking about her brothers. 

“I got a brother. Name’s Merle. Got left behind in Atlanta. Ya ever try ta find yer family?”

“Ain’t know where ta start. They wouldn’t tell me where they were gonna hunt, ain’t gonna go chasin’ ghosts when I have my sons ta keep livin’. They find me or they don’t. Just how it’s gonna have ta be,” Coretta says bitterly. 

“Sorry,” he mutters it, but it sounds genuine, “Ya miss ‘em?”

“Yeah. Miss Wade more than Jesse, truth be told. Jesse weren’t ‘round much before and when he was, most the time he was high. Couldn’t have him ‘round the boys like that. When he was sober though, he was good. I miss that person, rare as he was ta see, I don’t miss the rest of him though,” Coretta thinks it’s the shine making her talk so much. 

“He an ass high?”

“Could be. Had anger issues all the time, but he’d light shit on fire when he was pissed and high. Would do it sober from time ta time, but ya could talk him down from it then,” Coretta got real good at doing that. 

“Sounds like fun at a party, Merle ain’t ever do that shit,” Daryl swerves around a pile of corpses. 

“Could be real fun. Day we ended up with our daddy’s trailer in our possession, we burned that bitch ta the ground. Cops ain’t even care enough ta yell at us for it, much less arrest us,” Coretta smiles a bit at that memory. Definitely one of the most satisfying days of her life was watching that trailer burn.

“What ‘bout yer other brother?”

“Hunter,” the name sits bitterly on her tongue, “been dead eight years now. Fifteen years old. Died a day or two before Mason came along.”

“Shit, M’sorry,” Daryl sounds like he regrets asking. 

“Ain’t nothin’ ta be done for it now. He was the sweet one of us three. Ain’t had a mean bone in his body. Not sure how the hell he was so sweet. Me and Jesse sure fuckin’ weren’t. Only reason I pulled my shit together was ‘cause I wanted ta do right by the kids,” Coretta needs to stop drinking. She talks too much when she drinks. 

Daryl chews his thumb and asks real softly, “What happened ta him?”

“Daddy happened. Sweet boy got caught kissin’ another boy. Daddy lost his fuckin’ shit. Such a _stupid_ thing ta kill a kid over. Ain’t like it was hurtin’ no one,” Coretta drinks more, “I told him, after I left, I _told_ him, if he ever needed ta get the hell out, if he ever couldn’t take it no more, all he had ta do was call. Didn’t matter when or what I was doin’, I’d come get him or send Wade or _something._ I’d get him out. All he had ta do was call. Woulda made it work. He ain’t ever call though. Year later, he was dead. Fuckin’ bullshit.”

Daryl goes quiet, then, “That story ya told the Randall kid, ya didn’t just make that up ta fuck with him, did ya?”

She laughs low and bitter, “Nah, Nah, that shit happened. Mostly ta Jesse, but we all got it. Jesse did what he could ta keep me from gettin’ the bastard’s attention and when he left, I did what I could ta keep Hunter from gettin’ noticed, then I left and Hunter got killed. Ain’t that some shit?”

“Why’d ya leave?”

“Didn’t wanna stay and Wade was my first ticket out. Saw the chance and just— just couldn’t turn it down. Dunno if I fucked up there or not. Hunter might be alive if I hadn’t or maybe it wouldn’t’ve changed shit. Impossible ta say.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything to that. Just nods a bit and keeps his eyes on the road. Coretta screws the lid back on the jar and sets it in the floorboard. She don’t like how much she talks when she drinks around people. Coretta makes a point not to do it again. 

A month later, Coretta is hungry as fuck and pissed as fuck and so damn tired. She has a bit of a freak out and twists the fuck off on Rick. She snarls and screams at him that he ain’t got a damn plan. That they need a damn place to stay, that this running from place to place shit ain’t workin’. Screams that if he’s gonna be the fuckin’ king of the idiots he damn well better figure some shit out. Rick starts yelling and kids start crying and dogs start barking and Lori gets involved and Glenn tries to play mediator and Daryl ends up picking her up around the waist and carrying her away from the group kicking and screaming and cursing. 

The redneck has to keep himself between her and Rick to keep her from going after him again. Has to block her view of the man to keep her from yelling some more. She ain’t been like this since before she had Keston. She’s furious and twisted up and it sounds like her daddy or Jesse high is talkin’ instead of her. Daryl just keeps her there until she calms down. Snapping harshly at her that this ain’t helping nothing. 

Coretta snarls at him that she’s sick of seeing her babies hungry. Sick of seeing them cold. Just wants a place that’s fuckin’ safe and _is that so much to fuckin’ ask for?_ Somehow that causes her to start crying and he’s hugging her to him and mumbling that they’ll find something, that they ain’t gonna starve. That her kids will be alright. Coretta don’t know how to react to the hug, only ones that do that anymore are Keston and Mason. Still, she ends up burying her face into his chest and just stands there for awhile. She’s pretty sure he’s not completely comfortable with the contact, but he allows it until she pulls away. 

After that, Daryl starts hunting for places as they move. Finds a map and crosses out everywhere they’ve gone that ain’t safe. Draws circles around ones he think might be alright and shows ‘em to Rick. Coretta is currently unofficially banned from dealing with Rick directly, just in case she decides tyrannicide is a valid fuckin’ course of action.She wouldn’t do that, but she won’t deny there’s been moments where she ain’t exactly had charitable thoughts ‘bout the man. Carol ain’t much better, though. She’d gone off on the man too as Sophia started to lose weight. Coretta might get real mad real explosively, but from what she can tell, her friend is the plotting type. Coretta thinks if anyone is gonna snap and kill Rick it’s gonna be Carol if they don’t find a place soon. 

Coretta is singing that same Miranda Lambert song to her boys when Daryl finds a place on the map and shows her. A prison. Not just any prison. The one her daddy got sent to after he killed Hunter. Coretta stops singing and stares at that little point on the map. Just two or three hours from where they are. Coretta eyes it and eyes it and asks real soft, “Think Dictator Grimes will go for it?”

“If we can take it, maybe. We take it now, might give us a month before little Shane comes ‘long. The boys would have a safe place, ain’t gotta be worryin’ yerself crazy no more if we go for it,” He sounds real pleased with himself. 

Coretta kisses a dozing Mason on the temple and nods, “Best go tell our overlord then.”


	24. Chapter 24

Takes them a few days to get there, but they make it to the prison and everyone just stares at it for awhile. They kill a few walkers as they look it over. It’s a big place. Thick walls, tall fences, watch towers. A shit load of walkers inside. Coretta knows one of those is her old man. One of those is the piece of shit that killed her little brother. She tries real fuckin’ hard not to think ‘bout it. She’ll start fixating and shit if she does. Start tryin’ to hunt him down to bash his skull in. She don’t need to be obsessing like that. Ain’t no good come from it. 

Coretta can feel the energy in the air. If they can clear this place, they can stay. No more running ‘round like fuckin’ chickens with their heads cut off. Coretta adjusts her grip on Keston and kisses his forehead as her eyes look over their potential new home. Everyone is practically buzzing with excitement. They need this. The kids can’t handle the constant moving around much longer and Lori is due within maybe a month. They have to pull this off. 

Rick looks fuckin’ wired as he takes it in. Like he’s on fuckin’ speed or some shit. Coretta likes this Rick more than pissed off months long road trip Rick. He gives them the plan: cut a hole in the fence, then close the gates between the courtyard and the field. Coretta don’t like his idea of how to actually get through that herd alive. Running. She don’t think that’s the cleanest plan. ‘Course, she don’t think anyone wants to rub themselves in Walker guts when they don’t have a way to wash off yet. Coretta is at least mollified by the fact Rick is the one doing the running. 

It’s easy getting through the fence into the gravel area between it and the next fence. That’s the part that poses no problems. Rick’s little suicide run is the sketchy bit. Coretta and Mason end up in a tower with Carl while her Keston is by Beth, Maggie and Sophia helping rattle the fence to get the Walkers’ attention. Mason’s got the rifle again, since his kid’s compound bow doesn’t have the range needed for this. Her baby’s shoulder is going to ache something fierce but he’s made it more than clear he don’t give a shit. He wants this too. He’s been bitchin’ ‘bout their nomadic lifestyle for two months now. Coretta waits with an arrow notched to her bow for Daryl to give the signal. She and everyone else seems to wait with their hearts in their throats as Rick takes off through the yard. Coretta gives him props, he’s hauling fuckin’ ass. ‘Course that’s probably the natural reaction to the situation he’s put himself in. He disappears from her view and it’s up to Daryl to let everyone know when it’s time to shoot. 

Coretta’s fingers shift uneasily on the bow string just as Daryl calls out loud and clear, “Light it up!”

Immediately, gunfire fills the air and Coretta don’t flinch from the cacophony as she looses arrow after arrow, trying not to instinctively hunt for her daddy among the Walkers. She’ll check the bodies later. Right now, she’s got a job that’s actually kinda fun. Like a carnival game. She’s grinnin’ like a fuckin’ idiot as the stress relief that is this job continues for a few minutes. Mason is beside her hollerin’ insults and crowin’ happily with each shot he makes. Sounds like him and Carl are havin’ some kinda competition. Coretta is glad her boy is having fun. Even if it’s a bit of morbid fun. 

The last Walker falls and there’s a moment of silence as everyone just takes in the sight of the cleared yard. Then there’s laughter and cheers. They can do this. They can fuckin’ do this. Everyone gets down from their perches and makes their way to the gate that Lori is waiting by. There’s huge smiles on faces that haven’t smiled enough in the past few months, Coretta swears she’d almost forgotten what a genuine smile looked like. 

Coretta grins wide at the sight of Keston being swung up onto Daryl’s shoulders as the little boy giggles wildly and waves at her, “Momma! We got a house!”

Coretta laughs at that, “Sure did, baby, a big one.”

T-dog joins in, reaching up to ruffle the boy’s shaggy hair as he walks by, “Never ever thought I’d hear someone so happy ‘bout a prison.”

Daryl has one hand on Keston’s leg to help him balance while the other holds his crossbow. He shakes his head, “Little man the first kid in history ta wanna go ta prison.”

Coretta laughs at that. It’s true, since Daryl showed Rick the prison on the map, Keston’s been talking nonstop ‘bout it. He thinks it sounds awesome. Coretta ain’t ‘bout to disagree, though her reasons and his are very different. Mason and Carl are a little ways ahead of everyone and arguing over who won their competition. Coretta knows Lori and Rick don’t approve of the way the boys are towards this new world, but Coretta thinks it’s for the best. They need to be able to live with it. Though, the older boy gets a bit depressin’ at times. Least the boys are friends. Coretta thinks that’s something. 

They set up camp in the yard and Daryl goes to get the dogs while Coretta wanders around looking hard at each dead Walker trying not to be too obvious she’s looking for someone. She doesn’t find him. So she might still have a chance to do the bastard in herself. Coretta thinks she’s starting to fixate. Just a tad. Long as she don’t lose focus, it’ll be fine. Ain’t no issues. T-dog gives her an odd look but doesn’t say anything as she wanders around looking at corpses. 

Carol is the one to put an end to her searching for the night, “Coretta, come on, they’re all dead.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” she smiles at the older woman as they head back to the group. 

“This is good. Our kids will be safe here,” Carol looks happier than she has in months, more relaxed, though the edge she’d developed is still visible. 

“It’s a start. We gotta lotta work ta do.”

“But it’s something. More than what we had. A lot more,” Carol points out, “We just have to clear it now.”

“And keep it.”

“That too,” Carol nods seriously. 

Coretta sits down a little way away from the boys to smoke while she relaxes a bit. There’s not much to eat tonight. Just a few scrawny mushrooms, but it’s something. She eats a few before settling for cigarettes to take the edge off. Soon enough, god willing, she won’t need to do this. Hershel wants to farm after all. 

She’s halfway through the cigarette when the dogs practically fuckin’ crush her under their weight for a moment before all three take off running through the grass. They ain’t had the space to play in awhile and have been driving Coretta nuts. She’s more than happy to let the dogs burn themselves out. Daryl don’t come over, choosing instead to take up a spot further away from everyone near the gate. Keeping watch most likely, along with getting some time alone. She’ll leave the man be. If he wants her company, he’ll whistle or some shit. She don’t mind Carol taking him dinner. The pair is close as can be. She’s too tired to really think hard about if those two are gonna end up a couple or not. Ain’t like she cares ‘bout what they do. Not her place and all that shit. Beth starts singing some song Coretta ain’t ever heard and damn is she a good singer. It’s a sweet night. A good one. The first in nearly six or seven months. Coretta really fuckin’ hopes there’s a lot more like this. 


	25. Chapter 25

Coretta’s leg shakes as they wait to go into the court yard and clear it. Rick is leading the charge with Daryl as his second. Glenn, T-dog, Maggie, and Coretta are all involved too. Coretta had been offered the choice of staying with the kids, but she ain’t good with idle hands and she wants to see if she might stumble on her daddy. Not that she mentions that part. That’s her own personal thing and ain’t no one need to know. She taps her buck knife against her thigh impatiently. She’s ready to get this shit over with. Start moving in and all that. The courtyard and the C-block. Coretta has her bow slung over her shoulder with her quiver full of arrows and is as ready to go as she’ll ever be. 

They’re all pressed up against a wall as Rick unlocks the gate. Coretta works to even her breath and forces herself to stop tapping the knife against her leg. It’s time to go to work. The group goes in fast and wastes no time. It’s nasty work, and Coretta grimaces as Walker blood gets on her face as she yanks the knife out of one skull. She looks up to see Walkers in full SWAT gear and curses. That looks like a fuckin’ pain in the ass. A bolt from Daryl’s bow bounces off one of them and Coretta don’t like that shit at all. No one seems to like that shit. There’s a moment where everyone freezes at the sight of that before settling with pushing the SWAT Walkers away from them to deal with the ones that are easy to kill. 

Coretta curses as one Walker missing half its face ends up getting her against a wall and she scrambled to drive her knife into its head as it snaps at her face. It’s breath is rotten and Coretta wants to gag as the walker goes limp on her as it dies. She hates when this happens. With a grunt she shoves it away from her and yanks her knife back out. She hardly thinks before shoving it into another skull. Maggie’s discovered the solution for the SWAT Walkers. Just stab ‘em through the bottom of the damn jaw. Fuckin’ smart. 

Coretta falls back into step as she dispatches one last Walker and they stop to take it all in. Next is the first Cellblock. Coretta’s eyes rake over every prisoner Walker they put down. None who she’s looking for. Coretta runs her tongue over her teeth and forces her focus back to the next task. Going inside is more stressful, gets her adrenaline up a bit more. She ain’t never been a fan of Walkers in enclosed spaces. She’ll take a herd of the damn things in the woods over a handful in a hall any day of the fuckin’ week. Room to move, room to run, ways to get the fuck to safety. Ain’t none of that in a building. Like rats in a cage. 

She’s in the back with Daryl, having switched to her bow for this part. Better not to let the damn things get close in small spaces. It’s dark when they go in and smells nasty. Dead bodies and old sweat and rot and stale air. Coretta’s nose wrinkles as she releases an arrow, one of Daryl’s bolts shooting by her head in the same instance to put down a different Walker a second later. It’s just as messy and quick and mildly terrifying as always. Like livin’ in a shitty fuckin’ horror movie that don’t end. 

The last Walker falls and they just take in the sight of the cellblock. Long and narrow and two stories. They need to clean the place. It’s fuckin’ filthy. Blood and dirt and weird stains everywhere. But it’s theirs. It’s secure. Coretta’s gaze flicks over the dead Walkers and disregards each one as she retrieves her arrows. Coretta looks over each cell as they start to drag the dead out. Bunk beds and more than enough cells for the whole group. Not a bad deal once they’ve moved everything in and cleaned it up a bit. 

Move in happens quickly once the bodies are out. Everyone’s been waiting for this and are practically clambering to get the fuck inside. Vehicles get pulled up to the courtyard and everyone starts grabbing shit. Coretta moves her boys into the cleanest cell on the second floor wanting them above the ground floor in case something happens to ruin things. She ends up in the cell beside theirs. She ain’t sure what Daryl’s doing but he’s moved into the fuckin’ perch and Coretta just rolls her eyes at that. The dogs get split between her cell and the boys’ cell, Molly-dog with them and the hounds with Coretta. She wrinkles her nose at the nasty ass mattresses but is really too fuckin’ happy to care that much. Better than no mattress after all. She thinks she’s got sheets she’s scavenged in her truck. It’ll be fine. 

Coretta sets to work unloading her truck with Mason’s help. Moving their shit doesn’t take long. Mainly cause they’ve run outta most shit over winter. Still, they’ve got clothes, blankets, weapons, and some toiletries left, along with dried dog food she found at an abandoned pet store. Those get moved in immediately while everyone else unloads their own shit. Coretta is humming happily as she gets the few toys Keston has and gives them to the little boy to take inside. 

She gets her small hoard of cigarettes and the moonshine last. Priorities gotta stay straight after all. She ignores Daryl’s snort as she walks up the stairs with the box full of shine and cigs. Ain’t his business what she uses to destress. Ain’t like she drinks often. Only when ain’t nothin’ goin’ on and she can afford to take the edge off a bit. And he bums too many cigarettes from her to be able to complain about her massive fuckin’ stash of ‘em that’s only grown from finding more during scavenging. Rate she’s goin’, she’s gonna have the damn apocalyptic monopoly on the things. 

That night is a good night too. Everyone is tired and the work is over for the night. Tomorrow, they wanna find the infirmary and cafeteria. Start working on the rest of the damn prison. Find weak spots too. They wanna make shit as secure as they can. Too much to lose otherwise. Coretta fully plans to rig her and her boys’ cell with cans like the shack. Ain’t never know when dumb shit might happen. Dogs and cans are good fuckin’ warning bells. 

Coretta puts her boys to bed early and leans on the railing to look down. It’s not a pretty place, not pretty at all, but Coretta don’t need pretty. She needs safe and it’s safe. It’s warm. It’s something solid and real and Coretta is more than content to live in a fuckin’ prison. She lights a cigarette and silently offers Daryl one when he joins her by the railing. 

He takes it and the lighter and nods to the cell her boys are in, “They out?”

“Practically comatose. Got in a fight over the top bunk earlier,” Coretta shakes her head. 

“Yeah? Who won?” 

“Mason, Keston ain’t big ‘nough yet ta win that fight,” Coretta chuckles and takes a drag. 

“Gonna find the cafeteria tomorrow, ya comin’?”

Coretta looks over at him, The poncho he’s been living in is gone but the angel wing vest is still on his back and his hairs getting long since he won’t let her cut it. She exhales and shrugs, “Yeah, unless I’m needed here more.”

He nods, “Why ya keep lookin’ at the dead Walkers?”

“Makin’ sure they’re dead, of course,” She doesn’t miss a beat. 

He squints at her and she knows he don’t buy it at all, “Ain’t never done that before.”

“Didn’t realize ya paid that much attention,” Coretta keeps her eyes on her cigarette. 

“Don’t start, woman, ain’t lookin’ for a damn fight tonight,” he warns her, but she can hear the note of amusement. She’s gotten good at that. 

“Ya did good. Findin’ this place. Not bad at all, Dixon,” Coretta shifts enough to bump his shoulder with hers. 

“Shut up,” he mutters and takes a long drag. 

“Y’know ya love my talkin’, ya’d avoid me if ya didn’t,” Coretta retorts. 

He shakes his head and gives her a glare that ain’t halfway annoyed, “Gonna drive me insane one day, all three of y’all.”

Coretta laughs low and quiet, “Ain’t the worst thing ta happen.”

“Ain’t sure ‘bout that, ya should sleep, yer boys are safe. Ain’t no need for ya ta sit up all night,” he takes another drag and gestures towards the cell she claimed. 

“Force of habit. Just waitin’ for something ta go wrong,” Coretta ain’t quite ready to try and sleep all night. Feels like tempting’ fuckin’ fate. 

Daryl squints at the stairs leading up to the second floor then his perch then back at her, “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen, shit gotta get through me ta get ta y’all. Gimme some fuckin’ credit.”

Coretta just puts her cigarette out, “Ain’t my bodyguard, Dixon. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

He makes a grumbling noise, “Fuck off.”

Coretta pushes off the railing and tosses her hair over her shoulder, “Language, don’t want Mason tryin’ ta use ya for target practice again.”

Daryl snorts behind her as she walks off to her new home. Coretta ain’t sure how it happened, but she finds she fully trusts him not to let nothin’ near her boys and her. Makes goin’ to sleep in her little cell on her shitty little mattress with the dogs under the bed a lot easier than she thought it’d be. Makes fallin’ asleep in the same prison her daddy’s corpse is wanderin’ ‘round seem less unnerving. Bit odd to her, but she ain’t got the energy to think ‘bout it tonight. 


	26. Chapter 26

Finding the cafeteria is an actual fuckin’ shit show. Coretta kinda regrets not just staying with the others in the cellblock, but she’s fixated hard now on finding her daddy’s corpse so she can kill him herself and she sure as shit wasn’t ‘bout to _not_ go. Still a goddamned mess though. Narrow hallways, no light except their flashlights, a shitload of fuckin’ Walkers. Coretta ain’t havin’ a good time. At all. No one else is either. 

They push forward and fall back when larger groups of Walkers appear and have to pick them off. Over and fuckin’ over. Things go to hell after the third time and Coretta ain’t sure how but Glenn and Maggie got separated from the group. Ain’t no clue where they are and Hershel calling for Maggie is drawing Walkers more and more. Coretta hisses her fury and frustration as she stomps on the skull of a Walker that fell over, too keyed up to be grossed out by the feeling of a rotting skull surrounding her boot. 

Things get hairy again and she’s back to back with T-dog and there’s a pile of Walkers between them and the others and Hershel gets bit. Right on the damn leg. Coretta chokes the old man’s name out and stabs another Walker in the head. There’s general chaos as the group starts killing Walkers as fast as they possibly can to get to the old man, Daryl and Rick getting there first. The group manages to drag him through a set of double doors and Coretta is given the sharp command to get Glenn and Maggie and go to the cellblock to get ready. They’re gonna amputate the damn leg. So they gotta go find the fuckin’ the infirmary. Coretta spits curses but takes off like a shot. They ain’t got time for screwing around. 

Coretta is running have blind and stabbing Walker after Walker. It takes longer than she’d care to admit, but she finds them in a closet surrounded by Walkers and just loses her shit. They ain’t got time for this. She hits the wall with her hand good and loud to get the Walkers’ attention and just starts working. Glenn and Maggie must realize what’s happening, because they come out of the closet and get to work with her. It’s over quick and she’s telling them they need to get to the cellblock, Rick’s orders. So they go. She tells them why on the way and Maggie starts screaming at her for not telling her immediately which makes Coretta snap and snarl at her that they ain’t got much time and they need to get to the damn infirmary. 

Maggie is still pissed at her but they go. Pausing just long enough in the cellblock to tell Beth, Carol, and Lori they need to get ready for what’s coming and then they’re gone again. Hunting for the infirmary with a near insane level of fervor. It’s easier than the cafeteria. Maybe just ‘cause they’re fuckin’ _rabid_ to get through the mess and get what they can for Hershel. Maybe just less Walkers. She ain’t really sure, but they get there and it’s a mad dash to find every little thing they can grab to use. Gauze, medications, what looks like painkillers. Coretta ain’t a nurse, she don’t know what half the shit they’re grabbing is for, but she grabs what she’s told to grab and they’re gone again. 

They get back as the rest of the group is rolling Hershel in on a damn rolling cart and the supplies is pulled from her arms by Carol. Coretta steps back and lets the people who know how to help handle it. She knows the bare minimum medical shit. She ain’t got any knowledge about amputations and don’t wanna get in the way. She nocks and fires an arrow on instinct when there’s motion she’s not expecting near the door off the cellblock. 

Rick’s head whips around at her as her arrow misses its mark by bare inches and he snaps out, “Don’t! We found survivors!”

Coretta glares at the newcomers and nocks another arrow, just in case. Rick don’t take kindly to that and snarls, “Coretta!”

She don’t lower the bow, but she does grit out, “Won’t kill ‘em ‘til ya say so, Bossman.”

Must be enough for Rick, because he lets it go, has to really, since Daryl’s crossbow is up and aimed at the front guy and Rick ain’t say shit ‘bout that. Some Mexican dude with a look on his face she don’t like at all. He’s got a little revolver too. She bets she could kill him before he got that thing up. Her eyes flick over the others. Five in total. She wants to just kill ‘em and get it over with, but Rick is the fuckin’ King and his word goes. 

Coretta’s eyes flick up to her and her kids’ cells. The dogs are whining and barking but her boys are in their cell, hardly visible where they’re crouched behind Molly-dog. Good, she don’t want these guys seeing her boys. Not unless Mason’s usin’ ‘em as target practice, at least. She might make an exception then. 

Her attention turns back to the strangers as she listens as Daryl has to actually explain the fuckin’ _apocalypse_ to them. Who the fuck don’t know about the damn apocalypse? It ain’t like it was done quietly or nothin’. People who been locked in a cafeteria for _nine fuckin’ months_ are who missed the damn memo, apparently. Coretta wants to snort in derision at the utter confusion on the five idiots’ faces. Except that one. That one is trying to slap his dick down on the damn table. Trying to run shit. Coretta is itching to put an arrow through his skull. She don’t like the way he’s looking at her and the other woman and Sophia, either. Coretta don’t like it at all. One word from Rick is all she needs. 

The deal Rick works out ain’t one Coretta likes. She wants to remind him they got numbers and weapons on their side. They ain’t gotta negotiate with idiots who got one handgun. Coretta is pretty sure the inmates ain’t gonna be the one’s winning if they try to play this game. Clearing a whole damn cellblock for half the food in the cafeteria. Coretta ain’t a fan of it. Lots of work to let a bunch of assholes they don’t know stick ‘round. She ain’t big on strangers. Coretta’s yet to murder a person, but with the way this day is going, she finds she ain’t above it if they piss her off. 

Rick has her join the group to go clear the cellblock, as they walk out, he tells her in a low tone, “They try anything, especially Tomas, don’t hesitate.”

Coretta nods sharply, she can do that. She is fuckin’ _delighted_ by Rick sometimes. He’s a shit leader sometimes, but when his head ain’t up his ass, she’s happy to follow him. She ain’t sure if Rick gets the same feelin’ from the man as her or if he just don’t like the dude tryin’ to give orders, but she don’t really care. She gets the feeling those orders apply to everyone in the group. These newcomers aren’t them. Ain’t ever gonna be them. Coretta ain’t expecting anyone in the group going to clear another block to give ‘em half a chance to try shit. 

One of them, the skinny, nervous white guy tries to talk to her. That gets him an arrow aimed between his eyes from her and Daryl snarling, “Far as yer concerned, she ain’t here or I’ll kill ya.”

None of the prisoners make that mistake again. Though, Tomas keeps looking her over and she thinks an arrow to the ballsack would do him a world of good. A warning look from Rick is all that keeps her from acting on that idea. Just barely, though. 

Watching the idiots attack a group of Walkers like they’re living people makes a few of her damn brain cells die. She can practically feel them dying off. She ain’t even sure what to make of it. Like they don’t know what a fuckin’ headshot is. Ain’t goddamn hard. They were fuckin’ told what to do. 

Then the big one gets bit and Tomas turns his skull into fuckin’ jelly with a crowbar. Well. Coretta takes that as a pretty damn definitive sign the man ain’t in here for a nonviolent crime. A glance at Daryl and she can see he ain’t anymore impressed than her, his lips are pressed into a hard line and she can see the muscles in his arms tense a little, like he’s fighting the urge to put a bolt in Tomas right then. Rick’s face is dark and she can see him practically ticking off boxes in his head for Tomas’s chances to not get fuckin’ murdered. Ain’t lookin’ good. 

When he makes his last idiotic move by trying to kill Rick and gets a machete to the skull, Coretta is satisfied enough by it that she actually fuckin’ worried about herself. That ain’t normal. The end of the world is really screwing with her ideas of right and wrong. Ain’t nothin’ supposed to be satisfying ‘bout a man’s death. The little dude runs off and the last two are nearly executed. Coretta wants them gone. She says so. Rick looks like he agrees but a deal is apparently a fuckin’ deal ‘cause they ain’t fuckin’ animals and they get to stay. In their own damn cellblock. 

Coretta spends the rest of the day wandering down the halls they’d gone through, checking Walkers. She ends up having to kill a few more before Daryl apparently notices she’s disappeared and comes to hunt her down. 

“Hell ya doin’? Gonna get yerself killed,” he snarls at her as he approaches and shoots a lone Walker coming towards them in the head. 

“Makin’ sure they’re dead,” Coretta ain’t getting into her actual reason. 

“Like hell ya are. Don’t bullshit me, woman, why the hell ya keep lookin’ at fuckin’ dead Walkers?” He looks pissed the hell off. 

“Just told ya,” Coretta snarls back, “Fuck off.”

“Sure, just as soon as ya tell me what I should tell yer boys when ya get yerself killed bein’ a fuckin’ idiot,” Daryl snaps. 

Coretta nudges another head with her foot and shines her flashlight on it. Not him. Checks the one beside it and is disappointed again. Fuck. She don’t know if she wants the man already dead or if she wants to do it herself. Ain’t sure which would be easier. Ain’t sure which would be the better situation. 

“Well?! Ya gonna answer me?!” Daryl’s voice gets deep as he gets angrier. 

“My answer ain’t gonna change. Help me out or fuck off. I don’t care which,” Coretta hisses back. 

Daryl’s face twists and he fires a bolt into a walker that comes around the hallway corner, “Ya wanted somewhere safe, I found ya a place. Ya wanted yer boys fed, they’re fed, ya wanted this shit. Why the hell ya fuckin’ ‘round in here? Ain’t makin’ no fuckin’ sense.”

“Ain’t gotta explain myself ta ya, got my fuckin’ reasons,” Coretta growls out and checks another. 

He glares, “The hell ya lookin’ for?”

Coretta narrows her eyes at him in the darkness, “S’cuse me?”

“Yer lookin’ for someone, ain’tcha? That why ya checkin’ ‘em all?” Daryl sounds just as pissed but calmer. Like having a theory makes him feel better ‘bout the whole thing. 

“It matter? I’ll find what I’m lookin’ for in time,” Coretta ain’t getting into this shit. 

“Ya tell me, I’ll help ya, dammit. Don’t need ya gettin’ killed ‘cause yer fuckin’ ‘round in the dark after one fuckin’ Walker,” He sounds irritated again. 

Coretta stops what she’s doing and looks at the buck knife in her hand, “Y’know, I visited this prison exactly once, ‘fore the world went ta hell. Kinda. Drove all the way out here, got Mason a fuckin’ babysitter and everything. Couple months pregnant with Keston. Drove all the way up here, didn’t even park. Just kept drivin’. Waste of damn gas and time and money. Wade was so pissed when he found out. So was Jesse. Different fuckin’ reasons though.”

Daryl is silent and in the flashlight beam she can see him eying her warily, “Who were ya visitin’?”

“Not sure why I went, lookin’ back. Ain’t like he showed remorse at the damn trial, y’now, where it mighta done him some good. It’s why I kept drivin’ ‘cause I fuckin’ knew it wouldn’t do no good. Knew he weren’t gonna feel fuckin’ guilty. Fuckin’ waste of time, back then,” she’s speaking low and quiet. 

“Who?” He grits it out. 

“Daddy. ‘Bout time we have a family fuckin’ reunion.”

Daryl’s face is unreadable, “Yer old man was locked up here?”

“Sure was. I’m gonna bash his head in with a fuckin’ baseball bat. Maybe set him on fire like Jesse would,” Coretta smiles real prettily at the thought. 

Daryl looks away and looks back at her for a moment and without warning starts kicking the head of a dead Walker in until it’s little more than fuckin’ mush. When he’s done, he’s breathing hard and right in her face, “Y’know this shit when I showed ya the fuckin’ prison on the fuckin’ map?”

“No shit, I knew.” Coretta ain’t gonna pretend otherwise. 

“And ya didn’t think ta fuckin’ mention it? Didn’t feel like sharin’ that with the fuckin’ class? Just slipped yer damn mind?” Daryl is getting louder. 

“Shelter, safety, and a chance ta kill the bastard. I see no fuckin’ problems,” Coretta retorts, listening carefully for any sounds of Walkers. 

Daryl’s lips are pressed together so hard they’re white, “Woulda found a different place if ya’d told me. Wouldn’t’ve made ya live in the same place yer old man was locked up.”

“Don’t mind it. I like our new home. Just need ta do this. Need ta know the bastard ain’t walkin’ ‘round no more. Livin’ or otherwise.”

Daryl is still pissed, very clearly so, but he grunts out, “Fuckin’ fine, but ya ain’t runnin’ ‘round alone. Ain’t like he’s goin’ no where.”

Coretta tilts her head and her hair falls over her shoulder while she looks at him, “I’m puttin’ him down if we find him.”

“Fine. Don’t give a shit, woman. Just ain’t gonna let ya kill yerself over it.”

Coretta nods a bit and turns back to the task at hand. Just a few more and she’ll stop for the day. Daryl follows her quietly, a large, pissed off, warm presence at her back. She would prefer to do this shit in her own, but she ain’t interested in being literally dragged back to the cellblock by the man. She’s got too much pride for that shit and she ain’t gonna explain herself to the whole damn group. Daryl is good at keepin’ his mouth shut, at least with him, she knows he ain’t gonna say shit. 


	27. Chapter 27

Coretta keeps watch on the kids while Carol and Glenn go find a walker to practice C-sections on and Lori and Maggie and Beth keep an eye on Hershel. Coretta seems to have gotten the unofficial babysitter job. She ain’t sure how that happened, but it did. Probably ‘cause she can actually keep track of Carl when she cares to, unlike his momma. Ain’t like he’d listen to Lori anyway. Boy has been pissed as shit at her for months since Rick killed Shane. Whole fuckin’ Grimes family is fucked. Coretta feels for Lori, she does, but she ain’t ‘bout to get involved in that mess. They’ll work it out. Ain’t like they got an option. Kinda stuck together considering the baby and the apocalypse and all. 

She keeps her bow on her while she keeps an eye on them in the yard. Place is cleared out and the bodies been burnt up, but she ain’t willin’ to just let ‘em roam without eyes on ‘em. Carl and Mason keep wandering near the fence like they wanna stab the Walkers on the other side of it with sticks. Coretta tolerates it so long as they don’t act on that fuckin’ impulse. She ain’t interested in corpse clean up right now. Sophia is playing with Keston, looks like tag again. The dogs are running around after them and Coretta figures this is the most relaxed she’s seen the kids in fuckin’ months. 

Coretta is planning on hunting soon. Already cleared it with Rick and got Beth to agree to watch the kids. Sweet girl don’t seem to know how to say no. Coretta ain’t sure if it’s ‘cause she’s a people pleaser or she just likes kids. She just gotta wait a couple days ‘til they get the gates fixed up like they want. Make sure things are nice and fuckin’ secure ‘fore they start goin’ in and out. The guys are all doin’ construction shit, repairing what can be repaired and replacing what can’t be. Busy fuckin’ day for them. 

She figures if she can get Carl not to raise hell, her and the kids can start cleaning the damn cellblock once they get bored out in the yard. She don’t like the fuckin’ bloodstains everywhere. Don’t like the mess. She’d kept her trailer damn near spotless and her shack mighta been shitty, but she’d kept it clean as she could. She fully intends to get the damn cellblock up to her fuckin’ standards. Growin’ up, her house had been fuckin’ nasty and she’s fuckin’ weird ‘bout cleanliness now. She don’t mind dirt on her, but she can’t fuckin’ stand dirty housing situations. Next run Glenn makes, she’s putting in a request for fuckin’ cleaning supplies. Gonna bleach the hell outta the place. Needs to regardless of her personal feelings for when Lori has that baby. Gotta have a clean place for that. They ain’t got the antibiotics to deal with an infection right now. 

Mason comes running over to her, Keston wringing his shirt in his hands as he trails after him, leaving Sophia with Carl. The older of her sons stops and shifts a little before blurting out, “Are there any pictures of Daddy?”

Coretta freezes and stares at him, her heart in her throat for a moment. She ain’t prepared at all for this, she stammers a bit, “Uh, maybe, might have one in the truck, why, baby?”

“Keston can’t remember what Daddy looked like,” Mason sounds like he wants to yell at the world for that. 

Coretta’s frozen and staring and she starts hyperventilating a bit, but she forces out, “Take Carl and Sophia inside with y’all, I— I’ll go look, alright? Might have one somewhere.”

She feels a bit numb as she goes out to her truck and climbs in. She hunts through the whole damn thing. She has to have one. She knows she has to. Wade had a picture of her and the boys when Keston was just born in his truck. She has to have at least one of him somewhere. She fuckin’ _has_ to. 

Coretta’s breathing hard as her searching becomes more frantic. One fuckin’ picture. Just fuckin’ one. She has to have _one._ Why can’t she fuckin’ _find_ one? She’s cursing and slamming doors as she keeps looking and looking and looking. She ends up sitting against the back tire of her truck, knees pulled up to her chest and hands in her hair as she tries to calm down. She can’t find a fuckin’ photo of her husband. She doesn’t have a single one. She thought she did. Why didn’t she keep one in the damn truck? She ain’t never considered that she didn’t fuckin’ have _one._

Coretta screams into her arms to muffle herself as months and months of suppressing her grief finally boils over. She’s crying and cussing and shaking and just falling apart. All because she can’t find one single fuckin’ photo so her baby can know what his daddy looked like. She feels like a fuckin’ failure of a mother. A wife. She’s tried so damn hard for her boys. Tried her hardest to hold it all together and keep them alright. Tried to keep their damn hopes up that maybe Wade is alive somewhere. Maybe he’ll find them. She’s known, she ain’t stupid, that he probably ain’t. But she didn’t wanna take that hope from the boys, especially Keston. And she ain’t even able to do one simple fuckin’ thing like show them a damn picture of their daddy. 

A shadow falls across her and she jerks a little at Carol’s voice, “Coretta? What’s wrong?”

Coretta tilts her head back against the truck to look up at the grey-haired woman and chokes out, “Keston don’t remember what his daddy looks like anymore and— and I— I thought that—that I had one, just _one_ fuckin’ picture of him and I don’t. I don’t have shit for Keston. What do I do?”

Carol sighs and sits beside her, a rag in her hands to wipe the walker blood of from her surgery practice, “You tell your sons who their father was. Tell them what he looked like, what he sounded like, tell them stories about him. Tell them about the things he liked and what mattered to him. You can’t show them a picture, but you can tell them about him. You can remember him for them.”

Coretta makes a broken little noise, “It ain’t the same.”

“No, it’s not, but it’s something and it matters. He mattered, to them and to you,” Carol’s voice is gentle as she speaks, “Tell me about him.”

“What?”

“Your husband. You don’t talk about him. So tell me about him.”

Coretta has to swallow a few times before she can speak, “He was pretty. Real pretty. Had big brown eyes like Keston’s. Dark hair, kinda curled at the ends. Keston has blonde hair now, but I’d bet the dogs that it’ll darken up ta match Wade’s when he’s older. He’s his daddy’s spittin’ image. Could talk for hours ‘bout anything. Didn’t matter what ‘bout, neither. Just liked ta talk. Liked ta joke. Could have a real temper too. Like Mason. Used ta scream himself hoarse when shit would go wrong. Never at the boys though. Never. He loved ‘em more than anything in the whole damned world.”

Carol smiles sadly, “What else?”

“He could never sit still. Always needed ta be doin’ something. He’d get all jittery if he weren’t busy. Like he was gonna explode if he weren’t doin’ something. Terrible at answering phone calls too. When I had Mason, my brother— for once, he was sober— had ta drive me ta the damn hospital, Y’know? Whole time we were in the truck, he was callin’ and callin’ and callin’. Probably left a dozen voicemails. Wade got there ‘bout an hour after us. Still all nasty from workin’ on cars all day.”

“You tell your boys all that, and everything else you can think of. Can’t show them who he was, but you _can_ tell them. You can tell them about how Keston looks like him and Mason’s got his personality and how much he loved them. You tell them all that; it’ll never be enough, but it’s better than nothing at all and a picture doesn’t tell them who he was,” Carol’s voice is firm. 

Coretta sniffs a bit, “He’s probably dead. I know that and Mason probably does, Keston don’t, though. Still thinks he’s gonna find us. I don’t know how ta tell him that if Wade were alive, he’d have found us back at that stupid fuckin’ shack.”

“You tell him the truth and let them grieve. Let yourself grieve. Then you heal. You move forward. It’s the only thing you can do,” Carol takes one of Coretta’s hands in hers and pats it gently, “It’s the world now, there’s nothing we can do but move forward.”

Coretta doesn’t say anything back and they just sit in silence for awhile while she pulls her shit together. She holds onto that little wedding ring on her necklace as her tears dry. Nothing fancy. Nothing to write home ‘bout, hardly worth anything, but she loved it. Had loved Wade. Does love Wade. 

But Carol’s right. She has to start letting him go. She can’t carry his ghost with her everywhere she goes and her boys should get to know about the man. When she’s able to stand, Carol walks with her back into the cellblock and gives her an encouraging smile as she calls her sons to her. She needs to talk to them. Needs to tell them the truth, even if they already figured it, she needs them to hear it. They need to hear it. She don’t wanna do this, but nine months have passed and it’s time. 

So, she leads them up to their cell, kneels down in front of them, and tells them. They end up all crying on the floor of the cell together for awhile, the quiet tears that she taught them to cry back in their little shack. By the time it’s over, both boys have crawled into her lap and she’s clinging to them and breathing in their scents as the tears dry up again. They’ll be alright. She has to believe that. They’re gonna get through this and they’re gonna be alright. 


	28. Chapter 28

Things are going well, two weeks into living in the prison, life is settling down. Glenn is leading runs as always, and gets what Coretta fondly terms grocery lists from everyone. Coretta’s is mostly cleaning supplies and things for the boys. She don’t like asking for too much. Don’t wanna make things hard on whoever goes with Glenn on the runs, since she ain’t one to go often. Which is fine by her. She prefers hunting and staying close to home. Prefers being close enough to the prison to get there fast if something happens. As it is, she’s got an issue. Mason wants to go hunting with her. And he ain’t taking no for an answer. 

She knows he needs to learn. Needs the skills to survive. Knows he ain’t an idiot and it would probably fuckin’ fine. Still, she don’t wanna take him out with her. He’s fuckin’ safe here, so is Keston. She don’t wanna take him out of their concrete haven. She wants him where ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to him. 

“No, I already told ya, ya need ta stay here and watch Keston,” Coretta snaps as she finishes checking her arrows. 

“Why? There’s the whole group! I’m bored and wanna hunt too!” Mason’s got his skinny arms crossed over his chest and his chin up lime he thinks he’s gonna change her mind. 

“‘Cause ya ain’t needed out there. It’s dangerous and I want ya safe. That such a bad thing?” Coretta checks over her bow strings. They’ll need replacing soon. She’ll add that to the grocery list when Daryl goes out on a run with Glenn. Since Daryl will know what she needs for her compound bow. 

“I can hunt! Ya taught me! Daddy taught me! Even stupid Daryl taught me! I can kill Walkers too! Y’know I can!” Mason looks like if she were anyone else he’d be cussin’. 

“Don’t call Daryl stupid, he’s done a lot for us. I know all that shit, but yer still a kid. A child. Kids ain’t sent inta danger unless they have ta be. It ain’t gonna happen,” Coretta grits out as she fixes the buck knife into her belt. 

“I ain’t stayin’! I’m comin’ too! Ya can’t make me stay!” Mason yells and stomps his foot like a toddler. 

“I can and I am. Yer stayin’. Lori and Beth gonna be in charge of y’all while I’m gone. I hear one word from ‘em that ya gave ‘em a hard time, I’ll tan yer hide, hear me?” Coretta is out of patience. She needs to go while it’s still early enough animals are moving and Mason ain’t fuckin’ coming. 

“I hate ya!” Mason throws at her and runs out of her cell, straight into an exhausted looking Daryl’s chest. 

Coretta ignores the stab of hurt she feels at her son’s words. She knows he’s just pissed. That he’s a kid and he don’t think before talkin’. Knows he’ll feel real sorry for those words when he calms down and that he don’t mean them. That part of it is that he’s grieving his daddy now that she’s told the boys he ain’t coming ever. It’s the only reason she don’t respond to ‘em. 

Daryl does though, his hand falls on Mason’s shoulder and keeps him from running off, “Apologize ta yer momma. She ain’t done nothin’ ta deserve ya sayin’ crap like that.”

Mason tries to jerk his shoulder out of the man’s grip, but it don’t do shit. Her scrawny, angry eight, probably nine, year old ain’t near a match for Daryl. He glares up at the man, having to crane his neck to do so, “Ya can’t tell me what ta do! Ain’t my daddy! He’s dead! Ain’t yer fuckin’ business!”

“I’m goin’ with her. She can’t pay attention ‘cause she’s all torn up ‘cause ya were rude ta her and she gets bit, I’m the one that gotta deal with it. It’s my business, kid. Now tell yer momma yer sorry,” Daryl’s voice is gruff and annoyed. 

Mason looks absolutely mutinous, but after a short stare down with the man, he turns to her and mutters, “M’sorry.”

Coretta sighs and bends down to kiss him on the head, “I know. Keep Keston safe while I’m gone.”

She wasn’t expecting company on her hunting trip today. Normally she hunts alone and so does Daryl. They ain’t ever gone out on a hunt together and she ain’t sure what to make of it when the quiet man keeps his word and follows her and Red outta the prison and through the gates. Lucy fucked her foot up last time she took the blue-tick out and Hershel made it damn clear that she can’t be hunting for a few weeks, so it’s just the redbone coonhound today. 

They don’t do any talking. He follows trails while she follows Red. They separate more than once and have to use whistles to find each other. Or he finds her when Red starts baying. It’s a good hunting day. Spring is here and seems like everything in the woods has figured out how to avoid walkers. She grins widely at the pair of fat raccoons she manages, they don’t taste great, but food is food. A couple birds end up in her bag too. Daryl wins their nonexistent competition though. Man gets a whole ass doe. 

Coretta helps field dress it without a word and they take the thing apart real quick for easier carrying. Coretta ain’t had to field dress a deer in awhile, but the motions come easily after doing this with Wade so often. Red eats the guts as fast as he can, choking them down like he ain’t ever seen food before. Greedy bastard. 

Daryl carries most of the deer, while she ends up with the skin he’s planning to tan, and the shoulders of the doe. The walk back is mostly silent save for the occasion groan of a Walker that gets put down with hardly a glance. 

They’re maybe halfway back with their prizes when she gets bored and breaks the silence, “Ya weren’t gonna come, I was goin’ alone. Like always. What changed?”

Daryl don’t say a damn word back, just grunts and adjusts his hold on the deer. Coretta glares at the side of his head at the lack of response. That ain’t gonna work, “Ya goin’ on Glenn’s run tomorrow?”

“Why?” He sounds annoyed, but he’s talkin’. She counts that as a win. 

“Was hopin’ ta place an order,” Coretta huffs out. 

“Whatcha need?”

“New string for my bow. Shit’s ‘bout ta snap and I don’t think Glenn knows much ‘bout bows,” Coretta explains and wipes sweat off her forehead. 

Daryl don’t say a word for a minute, then, “See if I find some if ya tan that skin for me.”

“Deal. Whatcha usin’ it for?” Coretta ain’t sure what he wants to use the doe skin for. 

“Ain’t yer concern. Mason ain’t gonna stop ‘til ya take him out, Y’know,” Daryl sounds like he’s uncomfortable with what he just said. 

“He don’t like bein’ cooped up with nothin’ ta do. He’s too used ta how it were before. I’ll figure somethin’ out,” She whistles at Red a second later when he runs out of view for a moment. 

Daryl grunts a bit in acknowledgement, “Need anything for those two?”

“Keston needs new shoes, outgrew his last pair and don’t fit in Mason’s yet. Books or something, maybe. Want him ta be able ta read and we ain’t cleared the library yet. Mason needs a pants. His got too many holes in ‘em ta be worth fixin’.”

“Right. Ya need anything for yerself?”

“Nah. Ain’t need much. Ain’t worth the added risks,” Coretta shrugs. She just needs shit for the boys. She can make do with what she’s got for herself. 

Daryl just nods as they make it back to the prison gates and have to run through before the Walkers that are a constant fuckin’ presence on the fence come for them. Coretta relaxes only once the gates are closed tight behind them again thanks to Maggie and Glenn. The pair turn over the venison for that nights dinner immediately. Most will be salted to preserve it for another day, but Coretta figures a good chunk will be thrown into a pot and they’ll be havin’ stew tonight. She sets to work on the birds, sitting on the stairs and plucking feathers with Keston while Mason ignores everyone. 

They put the feathers in a bag so she can sort through them for ones she can use for arrow fletches later and then she works on teaching Keston to skin and gut raccoon. Molly-dog and Lucy are more than thrilled about the guts tossed their way. Much to Lori’s absolute disgust when she walks out of her cell and sees them. Woman is due any time now and still has nausea from time to time. That shit people talk about with morning sickness being temporary is bullshit. Babies don’t stop bein’ picky little shits just ‘cause they’re nearly ready to be born. Least Lori only gets it a little now. Was way worse for awhile there. Coretta had actually become concerned by it for a bit. 

Skinning and plucking done, Coretta gets everything salted for later and starts working on tanning everything. The damn doe is gonna be a pain in the ass, but a deal is a deal. Getting all the fat and flesh off it is nasty business and hard fuckin’ work, but she does it without complaint. Explaining the process patiently to Keston as he asks her question after question about it. Keston loves asking questions and she lets him try it for himself. He’s gleeful at getting to help. Proudly showing her his progress as if she weren’t watchin’ the whole time. 

Coretta grins to herself when he runs off to Daryl who’s busy making himself arrows and excitedly starts telling the quiet man about it. Daryl just ruffles the boy’s hair in response and Keston runs off to tell everyone else in the damn cellblock. Kid loves shit like this. Thinks it’s the fuckin’ best thing ever. Wade would be so damned proud, she just knows it. Coretta goes back to work on the damn doeskin and is curious as hell to know what Daryl even wants it for. She’s betting it’ll used for a makeshift blanket or some shit once it’s done. Not like Daryl lives off more than the bare fuckin’ minimum. Soon as the showers get fixed, she’s already accepted she’ll be bodily dragging him into them like she does her boys when they don’t wanna wash themselves. Man needs it. Whole damn group would thank her too. Her and Carol are fully planning to get him in the damn showers one way or another. 

Sophia comes over as Coretta’s finishing up cleaning the hide an hour or so later, “Miss Coretta?”

“Yes ma’am?” Coretta glances at the girl. She’s come outta her shell, but she’s still a quiet girl. 

The girl looks embarrassed as hell, “Um, I need help.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow and glances around the cellblock. Carol is out stabbing Walkers through the fence and Lori is trying to get Carl to do something. Coretta thinks Sophia is twelve or thirteen and can guess what’s wrong based on the embarrassment, “Ya need girl help?”

The girl’s face is bright red and she nods real quick, “Yes ma’am.”

“Ya bleedin’?”

Sophia looks like she wants to sink into the earth, “Yes ma’am.”

“First time?” Coretta figures she’s got pads and tampons in her cell, but she wants to know if she’s gonna have to teach this girl how those work. 

“Yes ma’am, Mom told me how everything worked but—“

“—But ya still need help,” Coretta finishes for her and stands up, cracking her back as she does, “C’mon, I got pads and tampons in my cell. Yer momma gonna have ta teach ya ta use tampons though.”

Coretta leads the young girl up to her cell and rifles ‘round in her box of shit for a second before handing the child a few pads, “Ya need me ta show ya how ta put those on? Or ya good?”

Sophia stares down at the pads with wide eyes for a second but shakes her head, “I think I can do it. Thank you, Miss Coretta.”

Coretta just smiles at the girl, “Yer welcome. Make sure ya tell yer momma. She’ll help ya out.”

Sophia looks embarrassed still even as she runs off and Coretta goes back to her work. Having two boys means she ain’t ever thought she’d have ta worry ‘bout that conversation before. Ain’t like she had it with her own momma after all. Woman was already gone by then and poor Jesse had had to help her figure it out. Blind leading the fucking blind there. Worst experience ever and the two of them vowed never to mention it again. Coretta forgets real quick ‘bout that little interaction as she focuses on her task. Deal’s a deal and she wants this shit done right. Ain’t like she’s got much else to do anyway. She’ll get to the raccoon skin next. 


	29. Chapter 29

The run takes two days and Coretta’s helping Carol clean a cell top to bottom to be used when it’s time for Lori to have her baby. They do everything they can to make it spotless. Lori is probably gonna need a C-section and they need a clean space for that. So they clean like mad. Scrubbing everything in the chosen cell until their hands are red and raw. They need to give Lori and her baby the best possible chance they can. If a C-section is necessary, the odds are already bad, they just need to keep them from getting worse. 

“Maybe they’ll find painkillers. She’s gonna need ‘em for a C-section. We ain’t got the heavy duty shit here,” Coretta says as she works on cleaning the metal frame of the bed. 

“Hopefully, it doesn’t come to that. I’ve been practicing but it won’t be easy,” Carol is putting clean sheets on the bed. 

“Childbirth never is, she did it once though, she’ll manage again,” Coretta mutters and grimaces at how raw her hands feel. 

“That was before. When we had hospitals and doctors and medicine,” Carol’s voice is soft and Coretta can hear the concern the woman keeps hidden most of the time. 

“She’s got Hershel once he’s up and walking. She’s got ya too. Y’all will get her through it,” She smiles as reassuringly as she can at the other woman. 

“Never imagined we’d be back in the dark ages, childbirth in the apocalypse. Doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it?” Carol’s tone is a cross between gently amused and resigned. 

“Childbirth weren’t exactly pleasant before. Took Mason nearly thirty hours ta finally come out,” Coretta grimaces at the memory of that. She’d cussed Wade out good and long in that hospital bed. 

Carol winces a bit at that, “No C-section?”

“Nah, Doctor nearly made me, but I was terrified of gettin’ cut open. Wouldn’t agree unless Mason or me were dyin’,” Coretta wipes her hands on a clean rag as she finishes. 

“I was in labor with Sophia for fourteen hours. She was so little when they put her in my arms,” Carol muses. 

“We’re sure she’s due in two weeks, right?” Coretta glances out of the cell when Beth walks by. 

“As best we’re able to predict,” Carol nods, “Why?”

“Gonna be hard enough without a preemie, y’know?” Coretta points out. Babies born too early sure as shit don’t got an easy time. Their lungs ain’t good yet or something. 

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Carol says it grimly. 

The sounds of the cellblock doors opening and Glenn calling out that they’re back from the run draws everyone’s attention. It’s a good way to get everyone to pause what they’re doing to see what was scavenged. Coretta rinses the water down cleaning products off her hands and goes to check on a napping Keston. She leans against the cell door and smiles to herself at the sight of the little boy cuddled up to Molly-dog and drooling onto his pillow. She needs to cut his hair. She’ll have to find the scissors. Satisfied her youngest son is actually napping, she checks Mason who’s playing Uno with Sophia and Carl. Looks like he’s about to win. Lucy and Red are laid out on either side of the boy. Coretta only goes out to see how the run went once she’s checked the kids. 

Glenn needs a bath it looks like. So do Daryl and T-dog. They look like shit. Probably had some issues, but all three came back and Coretta takes that as a good sign. T-dog is cracking jokes with Carol while Maggie and Glenn seem like they’re off in a world of their own. Daryl’s blue eyes lock on her and he pushes off the wall he’s leaning on, putting out a cigarette as he goes, and comes over. 

“Got yer shit. Ain’t sure what kinda books ya wanted for Keston, found a couple though,” Daryl digs around in the saddle bag of his motorcycle and pulls out a few dr. Suess books. 

Coretta grins a bit at those, “Thanks, these’ll be perfect.”

He hums and digs some more, pulling out new bowstrings for her and a plastic bag that’s got children’s clothes and a pair of kid’s hiking boots, “These good for the boys?”

“Yeah, these’re perfect,” Coretta beams at him, “Thank ya so much.”

“Whatever. Ya got that skin all done up?”

“Sure do. Needs ta finish dryin’ though,” Coretta warns. 

“Right, found something else for ya,” Daryl chews the side of his thumb for a second before digging around in his back pocket and tossing her something. 

Coretta barely manages to catch it and raises an eyebrow when she sees what it is. A bracelet. A wide plain leather cuff type thing with a turquoise stone. It’s pretty. Coretta ain’t sure what to think. It’s pretty, she likes it, but she ain’t asked for anything she don’t need. Tries not to make things harder for the runners. Still, she accepts the gift without a fight and smiles at him, “It’s real pretty, ya didn’t have ta get me anything.”

Daryl squints at her and shakes his head, “Ain’t nothin’, just looked like yer kinda thing.”

Coretta laughs a bit at that and snaps it onto her wrist nice and quick, “Whatcha think?”

Daryl glances down at her wrist and shrugs, “Looks fine. Ain’t gonna break easy like a chain.”

Coretta smiles at him again, “Who’d’ve thought Mr. Daryl Dixon could be sweet.”

“Fuck off, woman,” is his immediate response. 

Coretta rolls her eyes and goes to take the stuff to her cell, “Thanks ‘gain, Dixon!”

She’s thrilled at what Daryl found for her boys. The hiking boots are a bit big for Keston, but that’s good, he’ll grow into ‘em. She folds the pants Daryl found for Mason carefully. She’d only asked for one pair, but he’d found a few that all should fit the boy well enough. Coretta’s not sure when he’s gonna decide he’s paid whatever debt he thinks he owes them for helping Sophia, but she figures it’ll be any day now that they’ve got a safe place. Ain’t like he’s got any other reason to be the way he is towards her and the boys. 

Coretta stacks the children’s books as nicely as she can under the boys’ bunk. She’s careful not to wake Keston as she slips back out. They have a birth to finish getting ready for and Glenn brought back bleach. She’s ‘bout to go fuckin’ nuts with that shit. Whole damn cellblock bout to smell like fuckin’ bleach. Coretta can’t fuckin’ wait. 


	30. Chapter 30

Coretta’s in the watch tower keeping guard when shit finally goes south. Hershel has just gotten back on his feet and Coretta can see Beth walking with him as he tries his new crutches. It’s a nice day. Everyone is doing something andthe kids are all out and under Lori’s supervision. Daryl, Rick, and Glenn are checking something at the fence awhile Coretta sits up in the watch tower, gun on one side and bow on the other, and smokes a cigarette lazily. She’s got three more hours before T-dog takes over and she’s got nothing else to do but smoke and watch Walkers wander outside the fences. 

She’s mid drag when she looks over at the prison and her fuckin’ heart stops. Walkers inside. Coming towards Hershel and the people with him. She doesn’t even think, just screeches out at them, “Fuck! Walkers behind y’all!”

Things go to absolute shit about a second later as the prison alarms start blaring and more and more Walkers appear and people fuckin’ scatter. Coretta sees Carol and T-dog grab Sophia and Keston while Mason disappears with Lori, Carl, and Maggie. Coretta spews cuss words as she grabs the rifle and starts shooting every fuckin’ Walker she can. She’s got thirty rounds and a quiver full of arrows. She can’t afford to miss. They just keep coming though and the alarms are screaming and she can’t get down because the gate has popped open and Walkers are fuckin’ flooding in. Coretta has no idea where her sons are or if they’re safe or where anyone else is and she can’t get outta the damn watchtower. Distantly she’s aware of the dogs barking like mad somewhere and one of them shrieking yelps. Fuck. Coretta don’t think about the dogs anymore. She just keeps fuckin’ shooting. 

She runs out of bullets and switches to her bow. With the gate open and the sirens calling every damn Walker to them, she’s fighting a loosing fuckin’ battle alone and she wants to throw something. Wants to scream and curse and break things as her frustration and fear builds up. She can’t though, so she settles for putting arrows into decaying heads. It feels like a fuckin’ lifetime before the sirens are cut off and she’s down to five arrows. She’s still stuck in the damn watch tower though and she ain’t liking the fact she’s got a field full of damn Walkers between her and the fuckin’ cellblock. 

She’s cussing a storm as she looks down at that mess. She can do it. Probably. So long as she’s smart ‘bout it. Don’t make much noise. Coretta puts the buck knife between her teeth and starts climbing down. There’s seven Walkers crowding the bottom and she don’t like the dumb shit she’s ‘bout to do but she ain’t staying in the fuckin’ watchtower. She needs to find her sons. 

She takes a deep breath and bites down hard on the buck knife as she judges the distance. Might be able to make it. Has to be able to make it. She can hear voices calling for people as Rick, Daryl and Glenn reappear with Hershel and Beth in. Coretta hears Daryl shout at her but can’t make out what the fuck he’s saying. Ain’t like it matters. She’s getting down and finding her boys right fuckin’ now. Fuck whatever he just yelled at her. 

She braces for just a moment as the Walkers under her snarl and snap and groan, then launches herself off the watch tower. It’s a hard landing that jars her bones and makes her shove down a gasp of shock. She forces herself to stand and takes off running. She can hear shouting as she draws closer to the gate to the courtyard and nearly gets bit by a Walker that she has about a second to stab in the head. Then she’s running again. Glenn is yanking the gate open and she’s squeezing through right before a small pack of Walkers hits it. She’s shaking and panting and already looking around for Mason and Keston, calling their names loud and sharply. Using the tone she does when she wants them to get their asses to her immediately. Mason was with Lori. Keston has Carol and T-dog. They’ll be fine. She just needs to see them. Needs to fuckin’ know they’re fine. 

“Coretta— Coretta, stop,” Rick steps towards her, eyes sad and sympathetic and she ain’t gonna listen. She keeps calling the boys. 

“Hey, um, Coretta, you need to stop— it’s about Keston,” Glenn tries, his voice unusually subdued. 

No. She ain’t listening. She shakes her head and calls her sons’ names louder as a baby’s cry breaks the air. Coretta’s head snaps around momentarily to see Maggie and Carl and Mason. All bloody and wide eyed and there’s a baby and no Lori and Coretta don’t give a shit. Mason is fine. She can see that. She starts screaming for Keston. 

Daryl grabs her by the shoulders as she starts the way she saw T-dog and Carol take the Keston and Sophia. His eyes are red and he looks like he wants to scream, “Coretta! Stop! T-dog’s dead. We can’t find Carol or the kids. All we found was Carol’s scarf she was wearin’.”

Coretta stops calling for her baby and just stares at the man, while Rick falls apart behind them. Head cocked and face blank, she real quietly asks, “Did ya even look?”

“Yeah, we looked. We can’t find ‘em,” he sounds like he wants to cry or throw a punch. Like he’s barely holding it together. 

She don’t give a shit, she feels numb and barely moves her lips as she asks in an empty voice, “My baby is gone?”

Daryl has a funny look on his face, like he’s physically in pain, “I’m gonna keep lookin’, I’ll find him. I’ll find all of ‘em.”

“My baby is gone,” she repeats it and her head is spinning and she feels like she’s been fuckin’ gutted. She don’t even react when Mason comes over. Don’t even glance at the boy. Keston is gone. He ain’t here. Carol and Sophia and her Keston are all gone and T-dog is dead. Coretta shakes loose off Daryl’s grip and shakes her head violently. No. No. No. 

Beth tries to come comfort her and Coretta don’t think before snarling, half blind and half mad with grief, “Fuck off, ya stupid fuckin’ bitch! Don’t wanna hear shit outta ya! All y’all can go ta fuckin’ hell!”

She ain’t sure how she gets there, but she ends up on the floor of her cell, just Molly-dog and Red for company, since Lucy went and got killed by the damn Walkers. She’s got the cell closed and the sheet covering the door and she’s drinkin’ shine like she’s trying to fuckin’ die. She ignores Mason calling for her. Ignores the sound of Daryl’s motorcycle leaving and the sound of the baby crying. Ignores everything and everyone and drinks and drinks and drinks and then she gets pissed. Real fuckin’ pissed and stumbles to her feet. Starts throwing shit around her little cell and screaming her grief. She ignores when Maggie knocks on her cell’s bars. Ignores when Hershel tries his luck. Ignores Mason and Carl and Glenn. Ignores fuckin’ everyone and just drinks more. Her baby is gone. Her baby ain’t here. Ain’t even a fuckin’ body to bury. Coretta just wails and wails and wails. Ain’t nothing okay anymore and she wants to not feel anything. Wants to not be anything right now. 

She ends up sitting in a destroyed cell with a jar of moonshine in her hand and a Dr. Seuss book on fire in front of her and she just stares into the flames. She ain’t ever burnt shit up outta anger before, but fuck, she gets it now. She can’t kill herself, but she can make something else become nothing. She stares and stares into the flames and she wants to be dead. Like her momma. Like wade. Like Hunter. Like her baby. She just don’t wanna exist at fuckin’ all. Ain’t fuckin’ worth it if she’s gonna be outliving her kids. She can’t fucking do it. Don’t fucking wanna. 

Coretta has no idea what the hell happened to cause things to fall apart, and she don’t really fuckin’ care. Ain’t like it matters. Things went to shit and her baby is missing and she don’t know what to do. Her baby is missing and she needs to find him. Coretta stops thinking past that and stumbles up to her feet and grabs the buck knife. She’s fucked up and she knows it and she don’t give a damn. The world is swaying and she’s seeing double and she’s gonna go find her baby or die trying.  


She makes it to the door of the cellblock before Glenn and Maggie stop her. Maggie getting the knife outta her hand and Glenn bodily dragging her back into their cellblock and away from where she wants to be. She’s screaming and struggling again and completely mad with grief. Glenn ends up sitting on the floor holding her back while Maggie is in front of her and talking fast. Coretta don’t hear a word the girl says. Just starts sobbing and goes limp. She don’t wanna do this shit. She just wants her baby. Why won’t they fuckin’ let her go find her baby?


	31. Chapter 31

She’s put on what’s essentially suicide watch. Hershel sits by her bunk with his bible while she stares at the wall. They sit in silence because every time he tries to speak she shouts at him. Mason is with Carl and Beth and Rick’s baby while they wait for Daryl to get back with formula. Rick has lost his mind and run off into the lower levels of the prison. Glenn is burying T-dog and Lori while Maggie takes watch over. Coretta ain’t sure who did it but someone repaired the damage she did to her cell. Hershel had her shine moved to Daryl’s perch after they found the small fire she started in her cell. Apparently, they’re enforcing a liquor ban until further notice. Coretta doesn’t give a shit. Just stares at the wall in silence. For hours. Since they won’t let her leave the cellblock. 

Hershel clears his throat and starts reading a passage out of the Bible, “And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith—“

“Matthew 21:22. I _know._ My momma was real big on the Man Upstairs and the Good Book. S’all bullshit,” Coretta finally breaks her silence without yelling for the first time since this mess began. 

“While you may not believe, I’ve found there’s quite a bit of comfort to be found in this old thing,” Hershel’s voice is calm and steady as always. 

“Yeah? Well keepin’ the fuckin’ faith was my momma’s thing back before the fuckin’ Jesus decided ta raise the damn dead. Ain’t no faith worth keepin’ these days,” She snarls it and keeps her back to the man. 

“You kept faith that your husband was alive for your children. Even when you yourself did not believe so. I think you understand the importance of hope quite well. Your son may well be alive, Coretta, to give up now is not the type of woman you are. I’ve seen you, I’ve come to know you quite well these past months and giving up is not in your nature. Keep the faith, Coretta. For as long as you can,” Hershel advises. 

“Ain’t like I can go fuckin’ find him. Can’t do shit ‘cause y’all won’t let me,” She snaps, anger flaring again. 

“That is because you were inebriated and grieving. To let you go would have been the same as helping you commit suicide,” His voice is firm. 

“Why don’t ya worry ‘bout that girl of yers that slit her own damn wrists instead of how I decide ta handle losin’ my fuckin’ son.”

“Make no mistakes, I keep a close eye on my girls. But this group is family, Coretta, and you and your sons are part of that. You are not alone in your grief.”

“Just fuck off and leave me be if ya ain’t gonna let me go find him.”

Hershel sighs, “I’ll leave you alone for a bit, I need to check the baby, but first I’d like to leave you with this, ‘For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’ Jeremiah 29:11. I’ll come sit with you more in a moment.”

Coretta just curls into herself. She doesn’t want to talk anymore. Would rather stay silent than form a retort. Ain’t nothin’ worth sayin’ anymore. She stares at the wall so long her eyesight burns and doesn’t twitch when the roar of Daryl’s motorcycle returning breaks the silence around the prison. Coretta doesn’t move when she hears the cellblock door slam open or the quiet conversations that begin. She doesn’t so much as twitch when Daryl’s voice raises and the cellblock door slams again. 

She just lays there and listens to that baby screaming as the group tries to get her to take a bottle. The noise makes her insane. So much so that she stands up and walks out of her cell barefoot and glaring and goes down the stairs towards the source of the screaming. Beth is holding the child and trying her damndest to get it to eat. 

Coretta ignores the way everyone is staring at her and just holds her arms out expectantly, “Give it. She needs ta eat and it’s fuckin’ clear ya don’t know what the fuck yer doin’. Sick of that fuckin’ cryin’.”

Beth stares all wide eyed at her for a moment before slowly and carefully handing the baby over. Coretta shifts it immediately into the crook of one arm and holds it the way she held her babies. She takes the bottle in one hand and uses the trick old lady Margie taught her with Mason: take the bottle’s nipple and hold it to the brat’s nose before running it down to its mouth. Works like a fuckin’ charm every time and Coretta sighs in relief as the baby finally shuts up. 

“You’re good with her,” Beth whispers like she thinks a starving baby is gonna care more ‘bout noise than food. 

“Two babies. Ain’t hard.” Is all she says and offers the baby back to the girl, bottle kept carefully in it’s mouth. 

“You don’t want to feed her?” Beth seems surprised. 

“No. Just got sick of the damn noise.” Coretta snaps as Beth takes the baby back. She doesn’t stay to socialize. Just stalks back up to her cell and ignores the eyes on her. She slams her cell door shut behind her and sits on her bed with her back against the wall and legs up to her chest. She stares ahead and loses all track of time for awhile. 

“Ain’t like ya ta be sittin’ ‘round feelin’ sorry for yerself, girl. Hell’s wrong with ya?” Coretta knows she’s lost her mind when she hears Wade’s familiar drawl talking to her from beside her bed. 

She doesn’t fight the crazy, just turns her head to start at her grief-induced hallucination. Not-Wade is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand and dark brown hair curling around his work hat. He don’t look happy with her for all he’s slouching and relaxed looking. His wide, chocolate colored eyes are nearly black with rage. She glares back, “Yer _dead,_ ya don’t get an opinion no more.”

“Dead or not, Doll, still gonna tell ya yer bein’ a mopey bitch. Kes is missin’. Ain’t got time ta be lazin’ ‘round feelin’ sorry for yerself. Get yer ass up and find that boy. Ain’t hard, y’all livin’ in a damn prison. Only so many fuckin’ places a kid could be,” Not-Wade takes a drag of his cigarette. 

“Group ain’t lettin’ me leave the cellblock,” she grumbles. 

“Since when does Miss _Coretta Ann Claire_ let anybody tell her what ta do? Fuck, girl, we known each other our whole damn lives, I tell ya ta do shit and ya tell me ta go ta hell. Ya know these fuckers less than a year and they can tell ya not ta look for our son? What happened ta the queen bitch I married? Used ta take no shit from no one. Woulda made them fuckers sorry for tryin’ ta keep ya from findin’ Kes.”

“I ain’t been Coretta Claire since the day I married yer dumbass,” Coretta snarks back. 

“Always gonna be pretty little CeeCee ta me, Doll. Should fuckin’ know that by now, widow or fuckin’ not. Now wake the fuck up and get yer shit together. Sick of seein’ ya look all pathetic,” Not-Wade gripes. 

Coretta twitches as Not-Wade turns and grabs her shoulder, giving it a hard shake, “C’mon, girl. Wake the fuck _up!”_

Coretta wakes up with a jerk and her head cracks against the fuckin’ wall. Shit. She hadn’t realized she fell asleep. She blinks dully at Daryl crouching beside her bunk with his mouth pressed in a thin line, “Hell ya want, Dixon? Don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. Ain’t gonna hang myself.”

“I fuckin’ know ya ain’t. I found ‘em, Coretta, fuckin’ did it,” his voice is softer than she’s ever heard it and he sounds like he’s ready to fall apart at the seams even as he gives her a cocky smile. 

Coretta stares at him, his meaning not computing, “Ya put ‘em down? Think Glenn’s been diggin’ graves.”

Daryl stares at her like he thinks she’s outta her damn mind, “I ain’t put nobody down, woman. C’mon, get up, see yer son.”

Coretta glares at him, not liking the joke at all, “Fuck off, ya ain’t fuckin’ funny. Keston’s fuckin’ gone.”

Daryl’s eyebrows come together and before she can react he’s dragging her outta the bunk and picking her up like she weighs nothing. Coretta looses her shit. She’s struggling and cussing and Daryl doesn’t give an inch, just carries her outta her cell and into Mason and Keston’s, “Fuck, woman, just _look.”_

Coretta freezes when he sets her on her feet and keeps hold of her arms. Keston’s in his bunk and Hershel’s checking him over and he looks like he needs a year’s worth of sleep and a good bath but he’s there and he’s breathing and he ain’t dead. Coretta’s knees give out and Daryl goes to the floor with her, keeping her from hitting her knees too hard on the concrete. Her eyes are fixed on her son and she just keeps memorizing his face. Mason is sitting by him like he’s ready to attack anyone who gets too close. 

“See, woman, he’s fine, I found him. He’s gonna be fine. Hershel said so. They were in a fuckin’ supply closet, had a couple dead Walkers blockin’ the door. He’s fine, he’s _fine._ Told ya I’d find him,” Daryl is holding her up and talking low in her ear even as she just keeps staring at her youngest son. 

Hershel pushes himself up, using the crutches to keep balance and gives her a warm smile, “Keston is going to be fine, Coretta. A bit dehydrated and a bit hungry, but nothing a few days rest and recovery won’t fix.”

“He’s okay?” She croaks it out. Her hands are shaking and she thinks she’s crying. 

“He’s alright. He’s _fine._ He ain’t gone. Ain’t dead. He’s here, ya see?” Daryl sounds like he’s reassuring himself too. Like Keston matters to him as more than just a debt that needed to be repaid. 

“Yeah, yeah, I see,” Coretta starts laughing in sheer relief even as tears pour down her face. 

Mason inches towards her, “Momma?”

Coretta laughs and reaches out a hand to him, “C’mere, sweetheart, give yer momma a hug.”

Daryl lets her go as Mason slams into her, skinny arms wrapping tight around her neck. The man stands up and mutters that he’s gonna go check on Carol and Sophia as he slips out. Coretta just hugs her older boy and stares at little Keston sleeping in his bed like he never left. Coretta ain’t never had this kinda good luck before and she ain’t got a clue what to do with it, but for now she just moves so she’s sitting by Keston’s head and holding Mason as she hums to them, as much to calm herself down as to comfort the son that’s awake. 


	32. Chapter 32

She’s overprotective as fuck for a few days after that mess with almost losing Keston. Won’t let the boys outta her sight, won’t let them not be where she can’t grab them quick. It means she can’t go hunt, but that’s fine. She can watch the kids and do chores and shit for a while until she calms back down. Rick has lost his shit spectacularly since Lori died and no one has a damn clue what to do about it. He’s running around the prison with a fucking axe and putting Walkers down alone like a one man fuckin’ army. Ain’t no one quite ready to touch that mess with a ten foot pole. Man makes her little freak out look reasonable. Least she weren’t running ‘round all bloody and holding a damn axe. Daryl is unwillingly put in charge while Rick has his trip into insanity. 

It puts everyone on edge, knowing Rick is having a bit of a break with sanity. Ain’t a good thing considering he’s the fuckin’ king. Not that anyone likes Coretta’s names for their official leader’s position. She thinks they’re fuckin’ hilarious though. 

Coretta has Keston sitting nicely in her lap while the group has a meeting about what to do about Rick. She’s sitting at one of the metal tables between Beth and Glenn while Daryl sits on the steps on the stairs holding the baby. Coretta was startled by how much he’d taken to the baby, calling her little Ass-kicker and helping Beth with her when needed. Coretta supposes he just likes kids or something. 

“Someone’s gotta do something about Rick,” Maggie starts. 

“Hell we supposed ta do? Man’s got an axe and we can’t exactly resurrect Lori,” Coretta adjusts her grip on Keston who’s sitting in her lap. Mason and Carl are sitting a little ways off, glaring at the adults. 

“He cleared a whole cellblock alone earlier, he’s gonna get himself killed,” Glenn sounds exhausted just thinking about it. 

“Someone has to go get him. Stop him from hurting himself. We did it with Coretta,” Maggie points out. 

“‘Cause I was drunk. He ain’t drunk. He’s grievin’ and got a damn axe. Plus, he already left the damn cellblock. Gonna be a bit harder ta drag him back,” Coretta ain’t lookin’ forward to them having to knock sense into him. 

“Rick needs time to grieve, but we need him here,” Hershel’s voice is sympathetic but firm. 

Daryl snorts, “Ain’t gonna go get him. Man wants alone time, I say let him have it.”

Glenn turns to stare at the man holding the baby, “Is that what we’re calling it? Coretta wanted alone time too. You’d have killed us if we’d let her run off to do what he’s doing.”

“S’different,” is all Daryl says. 

“Why? It’s been two days,” Maggie snaps. 

“Just is. Rick’s able ta handle himself,” Daryl mutters. 

“So’s Coretta, still woulda killed us if we let her go,” Beth murmurs. 

“I was also fucked up as hell on Shine, Rick’s sober. I think,” Coretta counters. 

“Speakin’ of, I’d like to suggest, perhaps, getting rid of the moonshine,” Hershel sounds like he’s trying not to admonish her as he makes the suggestion. 

“No,” Coretta glares, she has one freak out and now the man thinks she needs them to keep an eye on her. 

“Why? You set a book on fire in the cellblock,” Maggie points out. 

“Got mad. Ain’t have nothin’ ta do with the shine. It was my husband’s and I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it. Thank ya, kindly. Didn’t hurt no one,” Coretta glares at the brunette reproachfully. 

“Coulda hurt yourself,” Maggie counters without missing a beat. 

“We’re here ta talk ‘bout Rick’s crazy, not mine, or has that changed?” Coretta shifts her hold on Keston. 

“I will go speak to him, if everyone is agreeable,” Hershel pushes himself up with his crutches. 

“Watch out for Axes,” Coretta mutters and stands up, setting Keston on the ground, she may keep her boys close since what happened, but she ain’t bout to carry ‘em ‘round everywhere like they ain’t got legs. 

She watches Hershel as he limps off to find Rick and everyone else kinda scatters. She plays with the bracelet on her wrist and goes over to Daryl and the baby. It’s a cute baby. She’ll admit that much, she’s always had a soft spot for babies, it’s why she wanted a few kids before all this happened. Even if both her boys were accidents. Happy accidents, but accidents. 

“Daryl Dixon and a baby, not a sight I ever thought I’d see,” Coretta leans against the railing as Keston stands on his tiptoes to look at the baby in Daryl’s arms. 

Daryl gives her a look, but she can see he’s not annoyed, “Carol said the same thing. Lil’ Ass-kicker’s pretty cool, though.”

“Guess that’s one way ta describe it,” Coretta eyes the baby. Babies cry. Loud. Can’t teach ‘em to cry quiet. Just gotta figure out quick how to keep ‘em happy. Cute, and Coretta likes babies, but not exactly good for the fuckin’ apocalypse. 

Keston is fuckin’ enraptured by the baby, “Why’s she so little?”

“S’how babies are. Ya used ta be tiny,” Coretta strokes his hair a bit. 

Keston wrinkles his nose, “Was not.”

“Baby, I was there, ya were that small,” Coretta counters and looks at the baby again, before looking back at Daryl, “Gonna need a pacifier for her. Lots of diapers and shit. Probably gonna need reusable ones. Lot more runs for formula, gonna be a hassle.”

Daryl squints at her, “We’ll do what we gotta do. It’ll be fine. Glenn and Maggie’re goin’ on another run tomorrow.”

Coretta nods a bit, “I know. She got a name yet?”

“Nah. Rick’s crazy and Carl is tryin’ ta pick one. Heard ya got her ta take the bottle, wouldn’t hold her, though,” Daryl drawls. 

“Just couldn’t stand the noise no more,” Coretta shifts her weight to her left leg. 

He hums, “Take her ta Beth for me? We can go huntin’.”

Coretta hesitates and glances down at Keston, “Ya gonna stay in the cellblock if I go?”

Keston blinks up at her, “Okay, Momma, when can I go?”

“When yer a bit bigger, stay with Mason for now, alright?” Coretta forces herself to stop hovering. Ain’t gonna do the kids any good if she starts smothering them. 

“Can ya leave Red?” Keston gives her pleading eyes, since Lucy died, her kids have clung to Red and Molly-dog. 

“Sure, baby,” Coretta glances back up at Daryl and hesitates a moment before holding her arms out for the baby, “Grab my bow for me?”

Daryl is astoundingly gentle as he settles the baby into her arms and nods, “Yeah, will do.”

Coretta shifts at the feel of the warm, tiny weight in her arms and takes in the baby’s face as she does. She’s awake, kinda. Her eyes move around in that bleary, not all there look newborn babies all seem to have. Least she ain’t cryin’ though. Coretta hums to the infant as she walks her to Beth, keeping her movements as smooth as she can. No reason to risk all that screamin’. Baby’s got a set of lungs on her. 

Beth beams at her when she appears with the baby, “Hi, Coretta! How is she?”

“Fine, Daryl asked me ta bring her ta ya, goin’ huntin’, Y’know?”

Beth coos at the baby as she takes her from Coretta, “Almost time for her to eat anyway.”

“Yeah, um, Beth?” Coretta figures she should apologize for the things she said when Keston was missin’. 

“Yeah?” Those wide, innocent looking eyes blink at her expectantly. 

“I’m sorry, y’know, for the shit I said ta ya. Shouldn’t’ve said all that,” Coretta scratches her neck and glances at her boots. 

Beth just smiles, “It’s alright. You were scared and upset. People say all sortsa things when they’re like that. Ya didn’t mean it.”

Coretta gives a tight smile in return and steps away, eyes searching for Daryl. He’s coming her way and he jerks his head towards the doors when he spots her, her bow and quiver slung over the opposing shoulder as his crossbow. She falls into step beside him and catches the compound bow he tosses her way, the weight more familiar in her hands than the weight of a baby now. 

They stay close to each other as they hunt. They don’t talk as they move through the trees. Listening for animals and Walkers and people alike. The quiet sound of Daryl’s crossbow releasing is one of the only noises they make. Coretta smiles in quiet pleasure when one of her arrows buries itself in a squirrel. 

Daryl eyes the squirrel as she pulls her arrow out, they’re at ten now, “Where’d ya learn ta hunt?”

“Jesse. When Daddy was sober, before I was born, he taught Jesse. Then Jesse taught me. Kept me outta the house, away from Daddy when he was pissed,” Coretta answers smoothly, “Then Wade liked huntin’ too. So, he would bring me along. Mason too, when he was big enough.”

Daryl nods a bit, “Ya don’t look like the type ta like it.”

“Yeah? What do I look like then?” Coretta raises an eyebrow when he squints and chews his thumb. 

“Like the kinda woman that should be bakin’ cookies or some shit in a fancy ass dress in a fancy ass house. Not guttin’ squirrels,” he finally answers as he turns away. 

“Ain’t the hand I was dealt. Never was much one for bakin’. Never came out quite right. My momma was real good at it though. Coulda been a damn baker,” Coretta offers. 

“Yeah? She didn’t teach ya?” Daryl glances back at her from where he’s looking at hog tracks. 

“Nah. Never had the energy ta, seemed like,” Coretta shrugs it off. 

“My ma, she baked sometimes, every once in awhile. Cookies mostly. Some kinda peanut butter things, made the whole damn house smell good,” He says it like he was about to say more but thought better of it. 

Coretta considers that, “Used ta try ta bake. All the time, when Mason was like two or three. Got it in my head if my momma could do it, ain’t no reason I couldn’t. Always messed it up, drove Wade up a wall, ‘cause it was a waste of money when I couldn’t ever get it right. Gave up eventually. Just got the shit from the store.”

Daryl shoots a squirrel that’s running up a tree, “How old were ya when y’all got married?”

“He was nineteen, I’d turned eighteen a week before. Was pregnant with mason less than two months later,” Coretta laughs a bit, “Condom broke and we were too drunk ta notice. Too hungover the next day ta think ‘bout it. Quick end ta the honeymoon phase, I’ll tell ya that much.”

“Was he pissed?” Daryl questions. 

“Maybe? Never figured that out, he stared for, like, an hour at the fuckin’ line of pregnancy tests on that bathroom counter, came out, stared at my belly for awhile, just walked out. Came back two days later, said he’d been plannin’ ta pick up a side job anyway and ta tell him when my first doctor’s appointment was so he could get time off,” Coretta grimaces a little at the memory. That had been a stressful two days. 

“Where’d he go?”

“Two day bender with his friends. Least, I think so. Smelled like whiskey and stale beer and was hungover as fuck when he came back,” Coretta wrinkles her nose as they follow the hog trail. It’s a few hours old at least. Gonna be a pain to find. 

“That happen a lot?”

“Nah, never again. Think he was just in shock or some shit. Somethin’ like that anyway.” Coretta knows Wade wasn’t perfect, wasn’t anywhere close— she sure as shit wasn’t— but they did what they could with that they had. Tried to be better than what they’d grown up with. Coretta likes to think they managed it. Even if the apocalypse fucked things a bit. 

Daryl rubs his neck as they follow the trail, “Merle, like, ten years ago, had a pregnancy scare. Some one night stand he met at a bar. Showed up couple months later, big as a house. Was a fuckin’ nightmare ta deal with. Turns out, wasn’t even his kid. She fucked some other guy the same week she fucked him.”

“Dodged bullet?” Coretta figures from the way Daryl worded it, Merle wasn’t exactly thrilled with the prospect of a kid. 

“Yeah. One of the only times Merle seemed scared. He was fuckin’ relieved when he found out it weren’t his,” Daryl agrees. 

Coretta laughs, “Keston was another accident, Y’know. Messed up my birth control. Thought Wade was gonna have an aneurysm.”

“Don’t sound like he much liked kids,” Daryl mutters. 

“He liked ours. Loved ‘em. Just didn’t like surprises and didn’t want a third ever. Used ta say he’d cut his own balls off before he’d agree ta make a third. Probably for the best, considerin’ the way of the world nowadays,” Coretta smiles ruefully to herself, she really had hoped for a third, when the boys were older and money weren’t so tight. If wishes were fuckin’ horses. 

Daryl squints a bit at her for a moment before looking back down at the hog trail, “Think we’ll be bringin’ back bacon tonight, if the trail don’t vanish.”

“Wouldn’t mind bacon. Used ta make bacon-wrapped dove when Wade went dove huntin’. Shame ain’t no doves comin’ through this time of year, shame we ain’t got shotguns either,” Coretta steps off to put a Walker down that was wandering their way. 

“Ain’t got a lot these days. Could be worse, got shelter, got food, got weapons. Ain’t great, ain’t terrible,” Daryl tosses out. 

“Well, don’t think I’ve ever heard ya say something so upliftin’, Dixon. I’m impressed,” Coretta pokes fun. 

“Shut up, woman,” Daryl sounds embarrassed. 

Coretta grins at his back, “Say please first. I know ya know yer manners. Ya get on ta Mason more than enough ta prove that.”

Daryl shoots her a mean look and refuses to respond to that. Coretta laughs and takes that as a win before falling silent again as they keep following the trail. Ain’t no reason to spook the pig off. Damn things are smart as hell. Coretta ain’t interested in losing it. She’s fuckin’ missed pork. 


	33. Chapter 33

Maggie and Glenn go on a run, and Coretta decides she’s had enough of Rick being a fuckin’ lunatic. She picks up her weapons and goes hunting for the man. It ain’t hard to find him. Just gotta follow the trail of dead Walkers he’s shoved his axe into. She ends up in what looks like an office or filing room, she ain’t sure really which. Whole place is a fuckin’ mess. And Rick is on the phone havin’ a damn conversation. Lord, she thinks, he’s really fuckin’ lost it if he thinks the phone is working. 

“Rick? Who ya talkin’ ta?” Coretta eyes the man warily. 

Rick looks fuckin’ outta his mind when he wheels around to face her, phone pressed right up to his ear, “There’s people, Coretta. I’m talking to them right now. They have a place, a _safe_ place. I think we can convince them to let us join them.”

Coretta’s eyes follow the phone line to the plug. Damn thing ain’t even plugged in, “Ain’t no one there. Phone ain’t plugged in.”

“I’m talkin’ to them now! They’re _there,”_ Rick refutes. 

“No, ya ain’t, Rick. ‘Cause there’s no one fuckin’ there. This shit ain’t healthy. Ya need ta stop. Go see yer damn kids. Carl, the _baby._ She needs a name, y’know? Focus on the livin’. Quit talkin’ ta ghosts.”

Rick gets mad at that one, “I’m not talkin’ to ghosts! They’re here on this phone! Here, listen!”

Coretta takes the phone that’s been shoved into her hand and puts it to her ear. Silence. She ain’t shocked, she stares at Rick for a minute, phone to her ear, before she steps to the side and slams the receiver against the wall until it breaks. She ignores his yelling until the receiver is broken beyond repair and calmly turns to look at him, “Get yer shit together, Bossman. Ain’t no one on the other end of the line. Time ta face reality.”

“Reality? You just destroyed our chances of safety! We needed that!”

“No. We don’t. This prison? Safest place we will _ever_ fuckin’ find. Ya said ya were our leader, so get yer shit together and fuckin’ lead. Let the dead stay dead, man, ya got the livin’ ta worry ‘bout,” Coretta gets the grief, she does, but this shit has to stop. Three fuckin’ days. It’s time for him to come back. Time to get his shit together. 

Rick starts screaming at her as she walks out. She ain’t arguing anymore with the man. She said her piece. He hears her or he doesn’t. Ball is in crazypant’s court now. He made himself damn dictator, time for the man to step the fuck up and dictate. 

She checks walker corpses as she goes. There’s one men’s cellblock left. They cleared C-block and D-block. Rick cleared A-block, more commonly known as death row. There’s B-block left. She ain’t sure, but if he ain’t been put down yet, she’s betting her daddy’s in there. When Rick finally starts leading again, she’s gonna take a day and go see if she’s right. 

Carol spots her coming back out of the lowerlevels, “You went to talk to Rick?”

“Sure did, Commander Nutjob’s talkin’ ta people on the unplugged landline,” Coretta shakes her head in disbelief. 

“What?” Carol looks baffled. 

“Ya heard me. Man is talkin’ ta people who ain’t there. He’s checked the fuck out,” She reiterates. 

The older woman purses her lips together, “He can’t lead like that.”

“No shit. Man needs ta pull it together. Axel get the water ta the showers workin’?” The convict had started working on that once he and Oscar were allowed to join C-block. Tryin’ to earn his keep, she supposes. She don’t really care why, she really just wants a damn shower. She’s sick of usin’ a wet rag to clean off.

“Almost, he said it should be done in another hour or so when I went to check,” Carol nods, “We need to do something about Rick.”

“This point, it’s up ta him. He gets it together or he doesn’t. Ain’t much we can do ‘bout this. Just gotta keep movin’ on,” Coretta ain’t got a real idea what to do about Rick. Hershel tried and failed. She tried and pissed him off. Maybe anger will get him moving. Hopefully. 

“Not much of a plan,” Carol sounds a bit bothered. 

“Best we got. Ain’t like we don’t all know our jobs already. So long as shit don’t hit the fan, it’ll be fine,” Coretta ain’t one for hope, but she is one for stayin’ strong. Rick is the leader, but he’s one man. He ain’t the be all end all of the group. If he can’t pull it together, they just have to pick a new leader.

Carol nods a bit at that and goes off to talk to Daryl, Sophia trailing after her like a puppy. Coretta whistles to get Mason’s attention and jerks her head towards the door, might as well go clear Walkers off the fence and Mason’s been climbing the walls to do something. This is safe enough. She hands her son a stick with a knife taped to the end when he comes into step beside her. She just uses her buck knife. 

“The head, Mason, hard as you can,” She instructs when Mason hits a Walker in the neck. 

“I’m tryin’, stupid thing keeps squirmin’,” Mason huffs out, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. 

“They do that, try again,” Coretta tells him and lines her knife up with the eye socket of a female walker that might have been pretty when she lived. 

Mason grimaces at the squelching noise that’s made as his makeshift spear finally goes into the walker’s head, “Nasty bastard.”

Coretta laughs a bit before scolding him lightly, “Language, I know ya know not ta talk like that.”

“Everyone else talks like that,” Mason grumbles back. 

“Keston don’t. Sophia don’t. Carl don’t. Kids ain’t supposed ta cuss,” Coretta counters. 

“Uncle Jesse said ya had a real bad mouth when ya were a kid,” He points out. 

“Uncle Jesse liked tellin’ stories. Don’t mean it were all true,” Coretta puts down another Walker that has broken jaw. She definitely did have a mouth, still does, but that don’t mean she wants Mason dropping curse words every other sentence too. Least not while he’s a kid without good reason. 

“Ya think he’s dead too?” Mason takes three tries to stab a large Walker through the jaw up to the brain. 

“Hard ta say. Might be, might not. Yer uncle has always been hard ta predict,” Coretta figures if Jesse is alive, he’s holed up somewhere higher than balls. She doubts the apocalypse would make him want to be sober. Hell, it makes her not want to be sober half the time. 

“If he is, and we find him, will he get ta live here too?” Mason tilts his head to look up at her. 

“If he wants ta. And if he can behave,” Coretta ain’t sure Jesse would get on well with the group. At least if he ain’t been forced to sober up since the world’s end. Maybe sober Jesse could. Maybe. 

Mason manages to put down a child Walker without issue and says, “But Rick ain’t behavin’ and we’re keepin’ him.”

“Rick’s havin’ issues. He’ll get back ta normal eventually.” She hopes. 

“But he’s leader,” Mason sounds annoyed as he tries to stab another Walker. 

Coretta puts two Walkers down in quick succession, “He is, but he just lost his wife. He’s upset like I was when I thought we’d lost Keston.”

“I saw her die, Momma. Watched Carl kill her. Am I gonna have ta do that ta ya, one day?” Mason’s voice is small. He sounds like the nine year old he is instead of a boy trying to talk like a man. 

Coretta stops what she’s doing and kneels in front of him, “I hope not, baby. I hope ya never have ta do anythin’ like that, but I won’t lie ta ya. One day, ya may have ta. And if ya do, I need ya ta know it’s the right thing. It won’t be yer fault, and it’d be a kindness, understand?”

Mason’s big blue eyes search her face and his hands tighten on that makeshift spear, “I understand, Momma, please don’t die too.”

“I will try my very hardest not ta, I can promise that much,” Coretta puts her hand on the back of his head and pulls him towards her gently to kiss his forehead. Then stands up and returns to the job at hand. If she’s just a bit more forceful with putting the Walkers down, well, ain’t like anyone is gonna notice. 


	34. Chapter 34

Rick comes outta the tombs the next day. Pulls his shit together enough to agree with Carl on the baby’s name. Judith. Cute name for a cute kid. He starts handling shit, asking after issues, coming up with things that need doing in the prison. Goes out to kill walkers on the fence. He still is clearly not all there, don’t take a genius to see that, but he’s not talking to imaginary people so Coretta counts it as a small victory. Better than what he was doing before, for damn sure. 

Axel gets the water working and some of the generators up and going. So Coretta drags her sons down to the showers and scrubs them clean. Mason complains because he’s always hated bathing. Keston complains because he’s begun trying to be like Daryl and if Daryl ain’t showering, why should he? Coretta just rolls her eyes and tells him Daryl’s gonna shower too. If she can make him. Since apparently, Keston’s decided Daryl is his role model for hygiene. 

She showers after her boys are clean and has them wait by the sinks for her. The water is cold since Axel hasn’t figured out the water heater yet, and it’s only on for a set amount of time so she has to work fast, but getting clean is a wonderful fuckin’ feeling. Getting the dirt off her skin and out of her hair is quickly becoming her favorite thing in the world. It’s nice to see her actual skin instead of dirt. Nice to see clean blonde hair that’s not greasy and caked in dirt. When she’s done, she’s humming as she leads the boys back to the cellblock, wet hair dripping as they walk. 

Coretta sends the boys off to play with Sophia, and Carl if he’s in the mood for it, then goes to get Daryl, see if she can’t convince him to shower too. Since Keston keeps on about how if Daryl isn’t showering, he doesn’t get why he should. Coretta’s fully intent on rectifying that little issue. Daryl can be pissy but it’s getting done somehow. 

Daryl is up in his perch when she finds him, she pulls a pair of cigarettes out of her current pack and offers him one. Pale blue eyes glance up at her before he takes it from her, “Whatcha want?”

Coretta lights her cigarette and offers him the lighter next, “Showers are workin’. What I gotta do ta get ya ta take one? Keston’s claimin’ since ya ain’t showerin’, he ain’t see why he should. Had ta fuckin’ drag him into one.”

Daryl squints at her and takes a drag of his cigarette, “Ya sayin’ I stink?”

“I’m sayin’ Keston looks up ta ya and I’d like him ta not fight me on showerin’, so what I gotta do ta get ya ta shower too?” Coretta leans against the wall and flicks ash off the cigarette. 

Daryl exhales smoke, “Ain’t my problem.”

Coretta narrows her eyes, “I’ll pour water on yer head every damn night until ya shower. Make it yer problem.”

He huffs a laugh, “Didn’t take ya for the type ta water board a man. Shoulda known, yer a bitch when ya wanna be.”

“Ain’t like I ever pretended otherwise. So shower now or nightly water boardin’. Which ya prefer?” Coretta exhales smoke and grins at him. 

“Ain’t much of a choice, woman,” He grumbles and takes another drag. 

“What? Need better incentive or somethin’?” Coretta flashes him a teasing smile. 

Daryl stands up and steps towards the stairs and by extension her, “Hell kinda incentive ya even got? Shine? Ain’t need that shit.”

Coretta laughs as she tips her head back to look up at him, “I ain’t ‘bout ta share that anyway. Limited supply and all that. Not unless ya ask nicely, at least.”

“But ya share yer cigs?”

“Just with ya,” Coretta shrugs carelessly. 

“Ain’t I fuckin’ special,” he grouches and starts to walk off. 

“Where ya goin’?” Coretta turns to watch him as she puts the cigarette back to her lips. 

“Fuckin’ shower, woman, since ya think I smell,” he says it like he’s annoyed but she knows he’d be a lot meaner sounding if he really were. 

“Don’t forget ta scrub behind yer ears,” Coretta calls teasingly. He flips her off in response and she laughs as she watches him stalk off to the showers. Least he agreed with minimal arguing. 

Coretta figures she’ll make a few arrows for him since he so kindly agreed to a shower. Ain’t like she’s got anything else that needs doing. Laundry is done. Carol is on dinner duty. Kids are all accounted for. Beth is playing babysitter to Judith. Maggie and Glenn are still gone. Hershel is talking to Keston with a gentle smile on his face. Rick is out killing Walkers with Carl. The dogs are begging for scraps from Carol. Axel is fiddling with the generators and Oscar is on watch. So Coretta just works on arrows. Always need more. Damn things break after awhile and they ain’t easy to find in stores no more, takes a lot of scavenging around the area to find ‘em. Better just to make ‘em herself. Save time and energy. 

The cellblock doors open and Coretta wants to cuss when she sees what Rick and Carl bring in. A woman. With a damn sword and she looks like she’s bleeding all over. Coretta narrows her eyes and lights another cigarette, before whistling sharply to get her boys to come to her. She ain’t sure what new joke this is, but she don’t want her boys near the stranger. Not with that look the woman is giving everything. Like she’s feral, like she thinks Hershel is now fixing her damn leg so they can feed her to Red and Molly-dog later. Coretta blows smoke out as her boys join her upstairs. Mason is standing between the stairs and Keston and Coretta knows he’s thinkin’ up rude things to say if the woman makes him made. Least he knows not to shoot his bow at people anymore. 

Daryl reappears a few moments later, hair dripping wet and looking marginally cleaner and she can feel the irritation rolling off him when he sees their guest. Coretta sighs as he starts snarling with Rick over this. Ain’t no one comfortable with a stranger around. Makes ‘em nervous and twitchy. Ain’t like they meet people often. Their group’s become insular as hell. Become family and all that shit. Hershel and Beth are the most welcoming to people. Glenn too. Everyone else is leery. Even the children are. Especially Carl and Mason. Coretta tells the boys to stay up here and goes down to see what’s goin’ on. 

Hershel is stitching a gunshot on the woman’s leg while everyone comes and eyes her. Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette after making sure the baby ain’t nearby, and looks at Rick, “When I said focus on the livin’, bringin’ home strays weren’t what I meant.”

The look he gives her tells her plenty. Just ain’t nothin’ it says is shit she likes. A glance at Daryl’s face and she can see he’s got half a mind to stand there with his crossbow aimed at the woman’s head until someone tells him to knock it off or pull the trigger. Coretta shakes her head and looks at the woman, “Hope yer worth the medical supplies.”

Then the woman says, in possibly the most unfriendly fuckin’ voice ever, “Your people got captured.”

Coretta don’t say a word as Daryl devolves into cussing beside her and Rick starts demanding an explanation. Just keeps smoking and starts mentally tallying up how much ammo they have. Since it sounds like someone is askin’ to be used as target practice if the woman ain’t lying. Coretta hopes the woman is fuckin’ bullshitting them. She really fuckin’ does. 


	35. Chapter 35

Coretta channels Jesse and starts making Molotov cocktails as Rick finally fuckin’ takes charge. This Michonne bitch has told a lovely little fuckin’ story ‘bout some town called fuckin’ Woodbury that’s got some fucker that’s called the damn Governor. Coretta ain’t gonna bet on it, but she’s pretty damn sure this man ain’t the governor of Georgia. A whole ass town of seventy-five fuckin’ people. That are keeping Maggie and Glenn hostage. Coretta ain’t never murdered a man before, much less a group of ‘em, but she ain’t a fan of people who kidnap their people. She don’t consider it the neighborly thing to do. Neither does anyone else. So they’re gonna go do a little breaking and entering. Maybe shoot a few people. Definitely cause some destruction of property. All to get their two idiots back. Coretta’s pretty fucking fond of her group of idiots and she really don’t like two of them being taken. So she’s making Molotov cocktails. Thank god she paid attention to Jesse’s lessons in fire and general explosives. Man knew more ‘bout that shit that a broke as fuck kid from the trailer park had any reason to. Wouldn’t teach her most of it though, the fucker. 

Rick’s going, so’s this Michonne bitch. Daryl is goin’ too. And the Oscar guy. Coretta ain’t sure if she’s going yet, but ain’t no one tell her she ain’t. So she’s makin’ slight explosives. Figures even if she ain’t coming along, she can send a few welcoming gifts to the fuckers that stole their people. Probably a waste of material, but ain’t no one saying shit. Even if Carol seems a bit concerned by what she’s doing. Daryl keeps shooting her wary looks too. Coretta don’t mind none. Just keeps preparing for this little visit of theirs. 

“Coretta, You won’t be coming,” Rick steps forward towards her. 

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “Four people versus seventy-five, bad odds.”

“Which is why we’re trying to do this quietly. I want you to stay here, keep everyone safe while we’re gone,” Rick tells her. 

“More use out there with y’all. Just sayin’,” Coretta drawls, “These things are just in case shit goes sideways. Need a diversionor a nice little ‘Fuck you’.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to take them, but I need you here or the only people here to keep the place safe while we’re gone will be Carl, Mason, and Carol. Do you want that?” Rick gives her the kinda expression that she imagines he used on unruly people as a cop. 

“‘Course not, Bossman,” Coretta’s eyes slide to Daryl, who’s watching the whole thing with narrow eyes, “Ya better come back in one piece, Dixon. Gonna be pissed if I need a new huntin’ partner.”

“Don’t let the damn prison fall apart while we’re gone. Gonna be pissed if I gotta find a new one,” he shoots back without skipping a beat as she hands him one of the Molotov cocktails, “Why the hell y’know how ta make these?”

“Jesse. Pyromaniac Methhead. Man could make napalm and pipe bombs too. Would only teach me this much though,” Coretta shrugs and hands Rick the other two she made, “Make sure y’all got lighters for these, try not ta drop ‘em on yerselves.”

“We’ll do our best. Everyone needs to stay inside the cellblock until we get back. Don’t let anyone else in,” Rick commands. 

“Got it, Bossman, y’all go get ready and find our idiots,” Coretta lights a cigarette to cover her unease. She’s pissed about the situation but she don’t like the idea of any of their group going into this mess. 

Daryl looks over her carefully as Rick walks off, “It’s gonna be fine, woman, stop that shakin’.”

Coretta glares at him and takes a drag, her hands are barely shaking, “I ain’t shakin’, Dixon. Ya best not be late gettin’ back, Feelin’ like it’s gonna be a ‘shine night after this.”

Daryl quirks an eyebrow, “Thought ya don’t share that shit.”

“I’ll make an exception, provided ya come back in one piece,” Coretta concedes. 

Keston comes creeping down the stairs and is all wide eyed as he looks at Daryl, “Ya goin’ ta get Maggie and Glenn?”

“Yeah, little man, we are,” Daryl rumbles. 

Keston wrinkles his shirt in his hands for a second before launching himself at Daryl and hugging him around the legs, “Please don’t leave forever too.”

Coretta twitches at the way Keston words that plea. Knows her baby is thinking of Wade and everyone else he’s met that’s gone forever. Daryl don’t seem to know how to react to the small child’s hug or his words, just pries him gently off his legs and mutters gruffly, “Ain’t goin’ nowhere, don’t give yer momma any hell while she’s runnin’ the place, ya hear?”

Keston sniffles and bobs his head, “I’ll be good.”

Daryl nods a bit to the boy before looking back at her, “Stop worryin’ over me, ain’t worth it.”

Coretta shakes her head and calls softly to him as he starts to walk away, “Bullshit, Dixon.”

She swears his steps falter a bit, but chalks it up to her imagination. She takes a drag and watches through half-lidded eyes as the little rescue team leaves, Molotov cocktails in hand. She hates bein’ left behind like this, would prefer to go too. Raisin’ hell is something she ain’t bad at. 

Still, gives her time to make more shit, in case their new neighbors don’t take kindly to their group’s little party crashing. She’s thinking they need one of those big ass slingshots that takes three people to use and a pile of walker heads. Hopefully, Rick won’t mind. It’s for security’s sake after all. Flaming, flying walker heads are what she would call good deterrent. Of course, she does recognize that as a bit sick, but the whole damn world is fucked. So, might as well go balls to the damn wall with fucked up security measures. Worst comes to worse, she’ll just replace walker heads with Molotov cocktails. 

Coretta ain’t dumb enough to think Rick will go for it, man has too many opinions and hang ups. Still, she plans it out, because it’s something to keep her mind off the sound of the cars driving away. She’s in charge of four kids, a baby, Beth, Hershel, and Carol. Oh, and Axel but the man pretty much lives in the controls room. So she don’t count him. At least, it’s only the kids that need supervision. Since Carl keeps disappearing and Keston is so young. Judith basically lives in Beth’s arms. 

Coretta spends the afternoon cleaning every gun the guys didn’t take and teaching Mason and Sophia how to as well. She’s offered to teach Carl, but he’s all pissy and grieving Lori and about bit her damn head off. Coretta ain’t in the habit of bothering with little shits that ain’t her kids, so she lets him mope around and pace the cellblock all creepy and shit with that handgun Rick lets him carry around. She don’t disapprove of that, considering Mason carries his child-sized compound bow and Carol has Sophia keeping a knife on her at all times. Keston has a slingshot now that Glenn found for him until he’s big enough to take the child-sized compound bow. She’s planning to find a larger one for Mason when he’s big enough to handle the draw. 

Carol ends up taking Carl out to kill walkers on the fence to keep him from climbing the damn walls. Coretta has a feeling Carol is as unhappy being left behind as she is. Still, there’s nothing to be done for it. Coretta just focuses on the things that need doing. Teaching the kids how to clean and take guns apart safely is one of those things. That goes on until she’s satisfied they’ll remember how, then sends them off to clean their cells. Coretta goes to check the food stores and immediately a headache starts up. There’s four fucking strangers looking around their food area like it’s the promised land while keeping their eyes on Carl who has a gun on them. Along with a bitch that’s clearly on death’s door. 

Coretta taps her fingers against the bars, “Ain’t anyone ever teach y’all it’s impolite ta just walk in ta a stranger’s house? These days, might get ya shot.”

Carl twitches at her voice, but doesn’t turn around, “I just found them, I don’t know how they got in.”

“Well, I’m sure they’d be happy ta tell us that, once they’ve given us their weapons, of course,” Coretta smiles beautifully at the biggest man with wide, kinda scared, kinda hopeful eyes. 

“We don’t have anything, okay? We just came in through a hole in the wall, we were trying to get away from those things,” he talks fast and keeps his eyes on Carl and the gun. 

“Ya ain’t even got a pocketknife? Liar, liar. Makes me wanna let the kid use ya as target practice,” She purrs, pretending to be meaner than she feels.

“I’m not lying. I swear. We were just trying to find a safe place. Donna got bit though and—“

“Best put her down then. Ain’t interested in havin’ the soon-ta-be corpse in our house. Y’all do it or I will,” Coretta warms. 

“She hasn’t died yet! You can’t!” The boy, an older teenager looks distraught. 

“Carl? Go in the cellblock, let everyone know what’s happening,” Coretta orders and fingers the key ring Rick left her. 

Carl makes a noise like a pissed off toad or something, “But, Coretta—“

“Now, boy. Don’t make me say it again,” She snaps. Carl hesitates but eventually runs off and leaves her alone with the strangers. 

“Ma’am, I promise, we didn’t know this place was taken, we were just trying to get away from the dead,” the pretty black woman says. 

“Y’know now. I’ll let y’all stay the night, bury her when she dies. Then you leave. All of y’all. And y’all will stay here, in this room, under constant supervision. I suggest y’all be on y’all’s best fuckin’ behavior or y’all gonna have more worries than the Walkers. If y’all don’t like that, speak now or forever hold yer peace,” Coretta don’t like intruders, but she ain’t gonna send them out this close to sunset. Ain’t that coldhearted yet. Still, she backs up as she speaks and follows Carl out. Locking them out of the cellblock before she’s done speaking. 

Tyreese, Sasha, Allen, Ben, Donna. Donna is gonna die. Coretta don’t mind the rest freaking out over being locked out of the cellblock. As if they’d be welcome in their home. Let them panic. Hershel takes over dealing with them. Probably for the best considering Carl wants to shoot them and Coretta wants to bash the dying lady’s head in with a rock. She refrains from that though. Let’s Hershel and Carol play the role of the nice people. Carol has a tight smile on her face the whole time and Coretta suspect’s she’d poison them if she thought they were a threat. They want to stay, for good. Coretta raises an eyebrow at that, and at Hershel’s response. Rick would have the final word on the matter. And Rick’s barely holding his shit together. Coretta don’t think there’s any way to predict how the hell this is going to go over with the man. But if she had to guess, _not well_ would be her answer. 


	36. Chapter 36

The others don’t return until late the next morning. Coretta keeps an eye on their guests the whole time, though it’s Hershel that points out a good place for them to bury their dead friend. The kids eye the strangers like they’re a damn zoo exhibit and Coretta has to get onto Mason twice for running his mouth at them. Ain’t no need for that shit today. Coretta knows the Tyreese guy is planning on pleading their case to Rick and Coretta wonders if she should warn him that Rick’s batshit insane half the time since his wife died. Really only seems to get his shit together on an as needed basis. Hopefully, he’s gonna have his shit together when he gets back. If they’re starting shit with Woodbury, they’re gonna need numbers. As much as she don’t like newcomers, the more bodies to throw at the problem the better if Woodbury decides retaliation is the way to fuckin’ go. 

Rick does not, in fact, have his shit together when the rescue team pulls up with a battered Glenn and Maggie in tow and no Daryl. Coretta lights a cigarette as Rick ignores their guests entirely at first. Just walks right by them to the cellblock. Coretta don’t like the fact everyone seems pissed off as they come in and there’s no fuckin’ Dixon. Makes her wanna demand answers. Glenn looks like he’s got half a mind to commit murder, a far cry from his normally easygoing nature. Maggie is just silent. 

The story comes out slowly. Angrily. Daryl’s fuckin’ brother kidnapped the pair. Helped torture them. The group managed to get them out, lost Daryl. Oscar died. They went back for Daryl. Daryl and his fuckin’ brother and some other fucker got out on their own. Glenn raises enough hell over Merle and the other Fucker coming back that Rick weren’t gonna bring ‘em and Daryl stood by his brother and left. Coretta just keeps smoking when Rick turns to her, “He said you and the boys will be fine without him around.”

Coretta blows smoke and instead of responding to that, says, “Y’all just started a fuckin’ war, Bossman. We needed bodies. Now we’re down Oscar and Daryl. Merle and whoever this other fucker was coulda been useful. Next time, tell Glenn ta swallow his rage so we don’t get fucked on account of his fuckin’ feelings.”

Rick looks disapproving at her, “You never knew Merle, he wasn’t a good man. And the other guy who helped them? Total stranger. Some guy named Claire.”

Coretta twitches, “Claire? Like his last name or first?”

“Last name. Didn’t give his first,” Rick sounds annoyed. 

“What’d he look like?” Coretta has a feeling she’s about to murder someone. She’s already pissed off and exhausted at the thought that Daryl just fuckin’ left, but if it’s who she thinks it is, she may damn well kill somebody.

“Blue eyes, kinda dirty blonde hair, needs a good shower, real skinny, real tall, why?”

“That’s Jesse, ya fuckin’ idiot. My goddamn brother. My maiden name is Claire. Did he know me and the boys were fuckin’ here?” Coretta glares up at the man. 

“No, we didn’t mention you when he was listening. Coretta, I didn’t know, I swear, but he was one of the Governor’s men, he and Merle were hunting Michonne. He—“

“Is my damn _brother._ Yer a dumbfuck, he can make bombs and shit, ya realize how useful that could be if Woodbury decides they don’t fuckin’ appreciate our little visit?” Coretta snarls it. 

“If that happens, we’ll handle it. We’ll be fine,” Rick sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“We ain’t got the numbers. We ain’t got the ammo. We ain’t got _shit._ Yer supposed ta be the damn leader, not Glenn’s fuckin’ feelings. Think for a damn second. It mighta been distasteful, but we needed bodies more than we needed people fuckin’ happy,” Coretta hisses, restraining herself from cussing him out for her brother being so close and so fuckin’ out of reach. She ain’t sure how he ended up here, but he’d know what happened to Wade and he’s her fucking blood. If it weren’t for the boys, she’d already be out the damn door looking for the bastard. All three of the damn bastards since apparently her brother and Daryl’s have buddied up. 

Rick gives her a look as Glenn comes over, “Enough, Coretta.”

She curls her lip in disgust and puts out her cigarette, “Fucked up, Grimes. All I gotta say on the matter.”

Mason and Keston immediately converge on her when she walks away, Mason gets right to the point, “Where’s Daryl?”

“Not here.”

“Why? He die? He get caught? Where’s Daryl?” Mason sounds like he’s ready to fight someone over this. Kid is weird about Daryl, like he can’t make up his mind for long over his opinion of the man. He don’t like that he ain’t around though. That much is clear. 

“No. They found his brother and Uncle Jesse. Wouldn’t let them come back with them. So Daryl left with his brother,” Coretta won’t beat around the bush. Her boys understand choosing family first. Much as this is gonna hurt them, they’ll understand best this reason for Daryl leaving. She is still fuckin’ pissed. About Jesse and Daryl. Hurt over Daryl too, not that she has any claim to the man. He’s grown and can make his own damn decisions and she ain’t got no reason to think she’d be a factor in it at all. 

Still, she’s hurt and watching her babies’ faces crumble before Mason looks furious makes it worse. Before she can stop him, Mason is running over to Rick and Glenn and cussing them out. Loud and long and more creatively than a nine year old should be fuckin’ able to. She don’t interfere. He ain’t kicking or hitting or trying to shoot anyone. If the adults can’t handle a kid telling them they fucked up, ain’t her issue. 

Her issue is Keston crying in front of her, she picks him up with a small grunt, boy is getting heavy, and tries to sooth him, “Hush, sweetheart, If it’d been you and Mason, y’all’d’ve done the exact same thing. It’s what brothers do.”

“He said he weren’t gonna leave, Momma, he said!” Keston’s big brown eyes are filled with tears and his bottom lip is quivering. 

“I know, I know. He shouldn’t’ve promised that. Ain’t no one able ta predict the future,” Coretta may shoot the redneck with her fuckin’ bow for this if she sees him again. 

Mason runs by them and up the stairs, red faced and furious. Rick is screaming like a lunatic at the guests to get out. She thinks that’s a fuckin’ mistake, but she ain’t interested in throwing that out there while the man is waving a fuckin’ gun around. She ain’t in the mood for more bullshit. She’s got her boys to focus on. Best not to think of the bullshit that’s happened outside the prison. Jesse is still gone. That ain’t changed. Daryl fuckin’ left. That stings something awful, but she ain’t gonna let anyone see that shit. And they’re probably gonna end up fighting a losing war with Woodbury. Coretta is gonna focus on her boys for now. Worry ‘bout the rest when she has to. Ain’t like anybody fuckin’ listens to her anyway.


	37. Chapter 37

Coretta ignores everyone but her boys and Carol while she works out how to prepare for the possibility of Woodbury retaliating. She counts out every round on ammo they have. Enough for a quick fire fight, but not a drawn out one. Enough for quick and quiet if they wanna pick Woodbury’s people off one by one. They have the riot gear. She can make more Molotov cocktails. If Jesse were here, she could have him making napalm. But that ain’t a fuckin’ option. So she paces the prison grounds and works out ideas. The fence keeps Walkers out. But it won’t keep out bullets. Coretta’s eyes flick over the trees, lots of cover there for people to hide behind. She ain’t stupid. This shit is gonna get nasty if war happens. They need weapons. Ammo. Coretta has an idea but she needs people with her. 

Her old trailer park, a long drive, but Crazy Gavin was a nutcase who was a fuckin’ doomsday prepper. Only reason the man and his family lived in a damn trailer park was ‘cause he spent all their money on shit for the end times. She knows curtesy of his kid she babysat from time to time exactly where his locked up stash of shit was. She also knows that for all his preparation, she saw the whole damn family walkin’ ‘round dead as doornails the night she and the boys went to the shack. She figures it’s be a five hour round trip if they work fast. Ain’t like anyone else knew where Crazy Gavin’s shit was stored. She wasn’t even supposed to know. 

She can’t take Glenn or Maggie. They need to stay here, recover and shit. Rick is a nutcase. She don’t trust Michonne yet. Hershel’s got one leg. Beth ain’t much of a fighter. She ain’t gonna be in a damn car with Axel for long. He’s a fuckin’ flirt and it’s irritating. At least he seems to have focused on Carol and she don’t seem to mind. She won’t take a kid with her. Daryl ain’t around. As it stands, it’s just her. She ain’t keen on doin’ the run alone, but she may have to. 

With a muttered curse, she turns away from watching the trees and goes to find Rick and know about her idea. Since she ain’t asking, she’s telling. One way or another, she’s gettin’ to Crazy Gavin’s stash. She ain’t sure why she didn’t think of it sooner. She don’t find him, so she starts getting her truck ready for a run, so he can’t bitch when she tells him. She’s got one of the rifle with a twenty round magazine in her hands and ready to load it up when the gunshot sounds. 

Coretta curses as gunshots fill the air and takes off towards the sounds, flicking the safety off the rifle at the same time. She ain’t sure what the fuck is going on, but she sets up behind a concrete wall and hunts through her scope for a target. Ain’t hard. There’s a fuckin’ truck out in the distance, but she don’t focus on that. There’s some guy out in the cover of the trees that’s popping off shots at Rick. Coretta bares her teeth a little as she focuses and the gunfire keeps going. She don’t let herself think before pulling the trigger. Misses by a hair, so close she can see the man jerk to the side. Tries again, and her heart pounds out of her chest when she sees blood spray outta the guy’s arm. Fuck him. She wants a kill shot. She pauses to adjust the scope, it ain’t quite the right distance for what the scope is at right now. 

Then a truck rams through the gate and there’s unpleasant silence as everyone watches it stop in the field. Then it opens and Walkers start pouring out. Shit. Fuck that. Coretta has to readjust her scope again for the new mess. She focuses on the driver of the truck who’s hauling ass away. She swallows her bile when her bullet tears through the person’s neck from behind. She’s cold despite the Georgia heat as she watches the body fall. More gunshots are filling the air as Coretta is muttering curses as she tries to pick the Walkers off. 

Things go quiet as quickly as they started and she hears an irritatingly familiar voice yell out, “Baby ‘Retta! That you back there?!”

Coretta stands up warily, gun held in her hand and steps out. So the idiots have returned. Daryl has his crossbow and he’s by Rick. The man she assumes is Merle is a bit further back, and there’s Jesse. Big wild grin on his face and holding his rifle in the air like an idiot as he spots her. Despite her shaking hands, she manages to get a cigarette to her mouth and lit before calling back, “Fuckin’ hate that name! Get yer ass inside ‘fore I use ya as target practice!”

Jesse don’t need another invitation. He starts popping off shots at the Walkers as he makes his way up into the prison towards her like he’s always lived here. He looks better than she remembers. Dirty, like Rick said, but his eyes are clear and he’s put on some of the weight he’d lost over the years. When he reaches her, way ahead of Rick and Daryl and Merle, she sets her gun against the wall a second before he grabs her into a bone-crushing hug and spinning her around. He sets her down and grabs her head between both his huge hands and kisses her soundly on the crown of her head, “Thought y’were dead, ‘Retta. Looked for ya, really fuckin’ did, couldn’t find ya. The boys alright?”

“They’re fine. Ya clean?” Coretta don’t think he’s looked this good in years. Not since Hunter died for damn sure. 

“Hell yeah. Ain’t touched the shit in months. World endin’ makes it a bit hard,” He grins like a loon, “Where the boys? Fuckin’ missed the little shits.”

“They’re inside,” Coretta narrows her eyes as the others approach. She ain’t thrilled to see Daryl right now and Rick don’t look like he’s keeping a level head. 

“Coretta! Everyone inside now! We need to plan,” Rick snaps out. 

“Sure thing, Bossman. But, I’m goin’ on a run today,” Coretta’s getting to that stash, come hell or high water. 

Rick looks furious, “No one is leaving!”

“I am! We need ammo! Guns! I know where some are! I’m fuckin’ goin’ after this little meetin’ ends!” She snarls back, “I ain’t askin’. I’ll even take Jesse if it’ll keep Glenn from havin’ a bitch fit.”

“Where ya goin’?” Daryl asks quietly, not making eye contact with her. 

“My old neighborhood. There’s a nice, big stash of shit near there. Ain’t no one left that knows where it is but me, damn near impossible ta find if ya don’t know where it is,” Coretta answers with a slight sneer in his direction. Now that he’s back, she can be pissed as hell at him. 

“No, Coretta. No one leaves,” Rick orders. 

“Stop me,” She glares fiercely at the man. They need this. They need this bad. She ain’t gonna back down on this. 

“Sugartits, I’m not sure who ya are aside from Claire’s baby sister, but the Governor’s gonna have people watchin’ every road outta here, ya ain’t gonna make it five miles,” the guy with one hand, Merle, sounds amused though. 

Jesse scratches his neck, “Ya still got the truck?”

“Yes?” Coretta glances up at her brother’s face and takes a drag of her cigarette.She knows that tone. That his real calm tone she only hears when there’s a fuckin’ mess and he don’t like it, but he’s got a fuckin’ solution. 

“It got gas?” 

“Full tank,” Coretta confirms. 

“We can do it. Gonna need two more people though,” He shrugs, “Need ta go now. If we wanna get in an’ out without the Governor’s people catchin’ us.”

Coretta looks over at Rick, “Who can we spare?”

“No one, because no one is going!” Rick looks furious. 

Jesse glances over at Merle, “Might be a nice little way ta get in good with the group, come bearin’ gifts an’ all that shit, ya in?”

Merle rubs his chin and eyes her brother before eyeing Rick, “Gonna need weapons, Officer Friendly.”

“Merle, we just got fuckin’ back,” Daryl snarls out, “Ain’t worth it.”

“‘Retta, Get the truck ready, I’ll meet ya out there,” Jesse smiles brilliantly at her. She knows that smile means he’s made a decision and will happily fight God over it. 

Coretta shrugs and turns towards the truck, “Tell my boys I’ll be back later, Bossman, and not ta kill no one.”

“Coretta! No! We aren’t doing this today!” Rick hollers after her, but she can hear Jesse’s voice drop real low as he intercedes. She knows from experience he’s trying to make something up to her by helping with this. She supposes he’ll tell her on the run. 

Coretta is checking the truck tires when Jesse appears, “Keys, ‘Retta. Ya can’t drive for shit. Those boys of yers probably got permanent whiplash if yer drivin’ them ‘round.”

Coretta tosses him the keys and snarks back, “Yer the idiot that taught me ta drive.”

“Clearly, I was higher than balls when I did,” Jesse gets the truck started as she slides in the passenger seat. 

The back doors open and Coretta narrows her eyes as Merle and Daryl both slide in the back, Merle gives her a lazy, lecherous grin, “What’s wrong, Sweet stuff? Thought ya wanted some company.”

Coretta just sneers at him, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong, y’all just slow as shit. I’d like ta get there before I’m dead, if that works for ya.”

Daryl narrows his eyes at her but she turns back around in her seat and puts her feet on the dash before he can respond. She ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to the damn deserter. Fuck that. She’s got her bow and arrows in the floor board and a cig dangling from her mouth and she’s content to let her brother get them where they need to go. She ain’t gotta talk to the men in the backseat past what’s necessary. 

“Works just fine for me, darlin’, I’d hate ta see such a pretty thang like ya all dead an’ shit. Be a damn shame that,” Merle sounds like he’s tryin’ to flirt. 

Jesse snaps real quick as he puts the truck in drive and turns them towards the broken gate of the prison, “Fuck off, Dixon, ya ain’t gettin’ near my baby sister’s pants. I’ll cut yer other hand off.”

“Merle, shut up,” Daryl mutters real low. 

“Merle, Ya seem like a real fun guy, but I’ve heard the damn stories. I ain’t interested in gettin’ super-clap,” Coretta drawls and takes a drag of her cigarette. 

Merle barks a loud laugh, “Yer a mean bitch, Ol’ Merle can appreciate that. I ain’t got shit, no worries there.”

“Ya also ain’t shit,” Coretta doesn’t skip a beat as she watches as Jesse hops the truck off the road and starts cutting through the trees. Man never did care much about roads. 

Jesse snickers, “‘Retta, how ya ever got married is a fuckin’ mystery ta me. Pass me a damn cig, I know ya probably got a whole hoard of the things.”

Coretta blows smoke towards him, “Ask nicely, I know ya got better manners than that.”

Jesse keeps his eyes on his driving, but curls his lip at her, “Alright, please gimme a damn cig or I’ll drive this truck full speed in ta a damn tree just ta spite ya.”

Coretta laughs but doesn’t call his bluff, just digs her pack out for him and hands him one, before digging her lighter out and lighting it for him, “Ain’t no need for threats.”

“Hey, Darlin’, think ya can spare another?” Merle cajoles. 

Coretta tucks her cigs and light away and takes another drag, “No. family only.”

She ignores the uncomfortable shifting Daryl makes at that, and just settles in for the trip. Ain’t no reason to be sharing with either Dixon. She don’t know Merle and Daryl left. She ain’t got what she would call a forgiving nature. Ain’t got time for Dixon bullshit. They’re useful. That’s fuckin’ all. 


	38. Chapter 38

Coretta chain smokes as they get closer to home. So does Jesse. Daryl is silent and even Merle shuts up after awhile. The familiar streets are silent and aside from abandoned cars and the occasional Walker, there’s nothing on them. A ghost town. Coretta sighs out smoke as Jesse turns the truck onto the narrow road that leads out to the trailer park. She stares out the window and doesn’t react when she sees the Walker that was Old lady Margie walk by. It ain’t the old bat anymore. It’s just a corpse that ain’t realized it’s dead. She tenses up a bit when the first trailers come into view. She remembers the people who lived in both. The yellow trailer was a trio of sisters who liked partying. The big white one was an old man that would shoot any dog if it came onto his property. 

“Where am I goin’, ‘Retta?” Jesse’s voice is unusually soft as he asks. 

“Down my street. All the way ta the end,” Coretta don’t know how to feel about being back here. She ain’t eager to see her home. She’d loved that trailer as shitty as it was. It was home. Where her boys took their first steps and said their first words. Where she and her friends would have movie nights while Wade was out of town. Being back is a strange, hollowing feeling. 

“So, Darlin’, which was yers?” Merle pipes up. 

Coretta turns her head to look out at the right side of the street for a moment and points, “That one, the blue one with ugly ass shed beside it.”

It looks awful now. The paint is chipped and peeling and faded since she and Wade ain’t been here to fix it up. There’s blood stains on the wall and the windows are broken. Her home, the one Wade had been so proud to show her, looks only a little better than her shack did. The door is still closed though. She guesses that lock Wade got was stronger than she thought it was. 

“Ain’t the shittiest place I’ve seen,” Merle muses. 

“Looked better before,” is all she has to say back before looking at Jesse, “There’s a dirt road at the very end of the street on the left, turn on ta it.”

“Who’s shit are we stealin’?” Jesse responds. 

“Crazy Gavin’s.”

“Who the fuck is Crazy Gavin?” Merle sounds irritated, “Bitch, ya best not be takin’ us ta get killed.”

“He was a doomsday prepper. Whole family’re Walkers now. Ain’t no one left ta kill us,” Coretta lights another cigarette. 

“Ain’t he the fucker that used ta scream ‘bout the end times at, like, three in the fuckin’ mornin’?” Jesse’s voice is incredulous, “That Gavin?”

“Sure is. Only reason I know where his stash is, is ‘cause I babysat his kid once and the kid showed it off ta me,” Coretta nods. That kid was as weird as his dad. She remembers that pretty damn well. Who knew Crazy Gavin was right in the end?

“How far we goin’ up this road?” Jesse glances at her as he turns onto the dirt road. 

“Not far, there’s a trailer up here he bought as a disguise for his stash,” Coretta explains. Man was batshit insane, and wasted money on preparing for the apocalypse, but he was smart about it. She’ll give him that. Even if he wasn’t smart enough to get to implement the whole thing. 

“How much shit is in this thing?” Daryl finally speaks. 

“See for yerself,” Coretta drawls coolly and points at the shittiest looking trailer she’s ever seen as Jesse pulls up to it. 

Coretta narrows her eyes at the building and hops outta the truck. Don’t look any different than she remembers. Which is a good fuckin’ sign that shit is still where it should be. She grabs her bow and quiver and strolls over to it. Ignoring Jesse hissing at her to stay with him. She circles around to the back of the building and puts an arrow through the head of a Walker that looks vaguely like Crazy Gavin’s son. She tries not to think about that and starts picking the first of eight lock the man put on the back door of the trailer. The front door is nailed shut. This is the only way to the stash. 

Coretta is on the fourth lock when the guys finally get around to joining her, she don’t so much as glance at them as she works. Jesse leans against the wall and spins a knife in his hand as he watches her. She ignores Merle’s comments about her ass and Daryl’s voice snarling at Merle to shut the fuck up somewhere behind her. Just keeps working away at the locks, calm as can be. 

The last lock pops open and she straightens up, cracking her spine as she does. She pushes the door open and walks into the empty fuckin’ house without pausing and starts pacing. Trying to find the right spot in the carpet for what she’s looking for. She bounces her weight a bit every few feet, looking for right place. 

“I ain’t seein’ shit in here, sweet cheeks, sure ya weren’t high?” Merle questions. He sounds pissed. 

Coretta finds the spot and steps back. She kneels down and works her fingers into the nasty carpet. Gets a good grip and pulls. There’s a second where she can’t get the trapdoor up, before it comes up and she pulls it all the way back with a quiet grunt of effort, “Here, should all be down there.”

Daryl shines a flashlight into the hole, “How the hell we supposed ta get down?”

“Jump, there’s a ladder in there ta climb back out. I think,” Coretta can’t actually remember that part. She hopes there’s a ladder. 

Jesse mutters a few cuss words and points at her as he steps towards the hole, “I’mma beat yer ass if I end up stuck in a damn hole.”

“Can’t if yer stuck in a hole,” she retorts, “Now jump.”

“‘Jump,’ she says, like I ain’t doin’ that shit already. Ain’t seen me for nearly a fuckin’ year and she’s already bein’ a bossy bitch,” Jesse is muttering to himself as he jumps down into the hole. 

“There a ladder?” Coretta calls down. 

“Fuck, Gimme a second, lemme look,” Jesse yells back. 

There’s a clattering sound and after a moment, and a lot of cursing, Jesse reappear’s in the flashlight beam with a ladder that doesn’t quite reach the top. He calls back, “Crazy Gavin was a fuckin’ hoarder! There’s a fuckton of crap down here!” 

“Told ya!” Coretta laughs. 

“Right! Dixon one and two, get y’all’s asses down here and help! Coretta, keep watch!” Jesse orders. 

Coretta goes and stands by the door as the guys work to bring everything out of the hidden basement. Jesse is right. There is a lot. They bring out the weapons first. Lots of guns. AR’s and high capacity magazines. A couple handguns a few shot guns. Crazy Gavin had a real hard on for guns. The ammo comes out next. Enough rounds to survive three Woodbury’s. They load it all up then start grabbing everything else that can fit. Cans of gas and a pair of generators. Some more canned food and those MRE things. If they can fit it in the truck bed, they take it. 

She ignores the fact Jesse is grabbing batteries and wires too. She knows from experience what he’s planning for those. She ignores him grabbing different soaps too. Napalm most likely with that. Gas and a couple types of soap mixed together and that’s all it takes. She just don’t know the right recipes for it. If he’s planning on bombing the Governor, she ain’t gonna complain. 

“Think that’s all that’ll fit,” she observes as Merle shoves one last gas can into the bed. 

“Looks like, Sweet cheeks,” He grins and adjusts the giant fuckin’ blade on his arm stump. 

“Not yet, gotta make one more stop then we can go,” Jesse sounds extremely reluctant. 

“Where?” Daryl asks sharply. 

“‘Retta’s place,” Jesse sounds like he’s expecting her to shoot him in the face right then. 

As it is, she cocks her head a bit, “What in the _hell_ could ya possibly need outta my fuckin’ house?” 

“There’s a handgun with a nearly full magazine,” Jesse makes an apologetic face, “Forgot it here when I came lookin’ for y’all with Wade.”

Coretta stares at him, “What _did_ happen to my husband?”

“I’ll tell ya on the way back, alright? Promise,” Jesse sounds like he don’t wanna tell her at all as he climbs into the driver’s seat. 

Coretta lights a cigarette and climbs into her seat. The Dixon’s have gone unusually quiet behind them as Jesse puts the truck in drive and turns them around, “Why ain’t ya tellin’ me now?”

“Ain’t a good idea,” he ‘bout spits it out. 

“He dead, ain’t he? Or he’d be with ya,” Coretta takes a drag and watches him expectantly. 

Jesse’s hands clench and unclench around her steering wheel, “Yeah, yeah he’s dead. Got bit on the shoulder.”

Coretta swallows a bit, “Did ya put him down?”

Jesse doesn’t answer, just drives down the street to her trailer and parks, “Stay in the truck, ‘Retta, it’ll only be a second.”

Coretta immediately reaches for the door handle and Jesse reaches across her instantly to hold the door closed, “Stay in the fuckin’ truck.”

“Why?” She snarls back. 

“Ya don’t need ta go in. Ain’t nothin’ left for ya in there,” He sounds pissed and pleading all at once. 

“Let go of my fuckin’ door,” Coretta can feel the blood roaring in her ears as she starts connecting dots, “Is he in there?”

Jesse makes a face like he wants to deny it. Doesn’t say anything though or let go of her door handle. 

“Is he a Walker?” Coretta snarls it. 

“I don’t know,” is all he gets out. 

“What the fuck do ya mean _ya don’t know?”_ She can feel her heart pounding out of her chest. 

“He got bit, told me ta go find y’all without him, kept a handgun for when he was ready ta go. I dunno if he actually did it or not,” Jesse says it all fast, like the faster he says it the easier it is. 

“Alright, let go of my door,” Coretta gets a strange sense of calm, “My house, My husband, I’ll get the damn gun.”

“Ya don’t need ta see that,” Jesse sounds like he wants to stop her, but his hand lets go of her door. Coretta’s grabbing her bow and arrows without a second thought and jumping outta the truck. 

She ignores the sound of a different truck door opening and slips through the chain link gate and walks around to the back door. She and Wade never really used the front door. No real reason for it, just never did. Ain’t sure why. The backdoor is unlocked and she slips inside, bow at the ready. She glances over her shoulder to see who followed her as she steps in side. Daryl. Crossbow ready to fire. She eyes him but turns back and steps inside her home for the first time in months. 

Coretta looks around quietly. It’s still clean. In need of a good dusting, and there’s a few open beers and an empty pack of cigarettes by a full ashtray on her coffee table, but it’s clean. Like she just left for awhile. Like she didn’t abandon the place. Her eyes drift over the photos of her kids and her and Wade. There’s dried, long dead flowers in a vase on the tiny kitchen table. A few half empty bottles of whisky on top of the fridge. Dog toys by the couch. No Wade. 

Then there’s a noise from her bedroom. The unpleasant noise of a Walker groaning and slamming against the door. Coretta makes a low noise in her throat. So he didn’t put himself down. Didn’t commit suicide. Just drank and smoked until the clock ran out. Coretta thinks she hates him a little for that. For leaving it to her to do this. She thinks she hates him a lot for it actually. 

She stares at that door for a moment. Watches the shadow of a person move under it. She don’t wanna open that door at all. That’s where the gun is though. And Jesse wants the stupid fuckin’ gun. She walks towards it just as Daryl starts to take over. She leans the bow against the wall and pulls her knife out. Daryl is close to her and she can see out of the corner of her eye that his crossbow is raised. She knows if she can’t do it, he will. It’s oddly comforting. Her hand is oddly steady as it closes around the door knob. 

She doesn’t think before shoving the door open and doesn’t think as the Walker that was her Husband groans and reaches for her. Just shoves her knife into his head as fast as she can. Ends up just staring down the body and listening to the roaring in her fuckin’ ears for awhile. She doesn’t cry though. She’s already grieved the man. Already let him go. This is just the closing of that chapter. Just once last moment of letting go. She steps over the body of the Walker, because that’s what it is, a Walker, not Wade, just a fuckin’ Walker. She grabs the fuckin’ handgun off the bed and steps out just as quickly, running into Daryl’s chest as she does. 

His hand falls to her shoulder to steady her, “Coretta?”

She shakes him off and grabs her weapons off the floor and out of the walker’s head, “It’s fine. We need to get back.”

“Could bury him real quick,” he offers. 

“Don’t have time. Don’t have shovels. Need ta go now,” She doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to dig a grave in the yard her kids used to play in. 

Daryl hesitates a moment before nodding, “Alright. Anything else ya wanna grab?”

Coretta shakes her head and steps over to the gas stove, and turns on the gas, “No, lets go.”

“What are ya doin’?” Daryl eyes the stove. 

“Wade wanted ta be cremated and ain’t no reason not ta honor that,” Coretta explains as she grabs one of the whisky bottles on her way out of the house, Daryl behind her. 

It ain’t hard to walk back to the truck and climb in, ain’t hard to tell Jesse what she wants. Ain’t hard to watch him set that gas filled trailer on fire from a safe distance away. Ain’t hard to watch from the side view mirror as the house burns and attracts every walker near by. Ain’t hard to take her necklace off, with her wedding ring still on it, and drop it out the window when she tosses out another cigarette butt. Ain’t hard at all, just exhausting. She don’t say a word the entire drive back to the prison. Just watches the trees and houses and walkers go by as Jesse drives like a fuckin’ Nutjob. Sooner they’re back, the better. They got a governor to tell to fuck off. 


	39. Chapter 39

They get back late, nearly midnight, and if it weren’t for Maggie sitting up in the watch tower they’d be sleeping in the truck tonight. As it is, they get let in and Rick is waiting for them in the area they park all the cars. So are Coretta’s sons. Though Mason and Keston look like they’re fighting to stay awake. And Mason has his bow with an arrow nocked to it. If he shoots at them, she’s gonna tan his hide. 

Jesse puts the truck in park and hops out, “I believe y’all ordered some firepower?”

Rick goes and looks in the truck bed as everyone else gets out of the car, “Was this everything?”

“Every round of ammo and every weapon, couldn’t fit all the other shit though, took what we could,” Daryl says. 

Rick hums a little, “I’m takin’ Michonne and Carl with me on a run tomorrow, try to find even more. Merle and Jesse are staying in D-block for now. Until things settle down.”

Jesse snorts, “There a mattress?”

“Yes,” Rick sounds annoyed. 

“Sounds fuckin’ good,” He turns to look at the others out and his eyes go wide at the sight of her boys, “Holy shit, y’all got fuckin’ big. When’d that happen?”

Mason glares at his uncle while the adults start unloading the truck, “Where the hell ya been? Momma said ya got lost.”

“Been ‘round, ya lil shit, tryin’ ta find y’all,” Jesse laughs and unloads a generator. 

Keston narrows his eyes, “Uncle Jesse?”

“Hey Kes, ya even remember me?” Jesse grins down at the kid. 

“I remember momma yellin’ at ya for wakin’ her up once,” Keston offers, “She called ya a broke ass dumb ass tweaker motherfucker.”

Coretta and Jesse wince as one while Daryl side eyes her, Rick starts coughing, and Merle busts out laughing. Coretta shoots her littlest son a warning look, “Keston, don’t be usin’ that language. I know Mason does, but that don’t mean ya should.”

“Okay, Momma,” Keston nods obediently and yawns. 

“Shit, ‘Retta, I never thought I’d see y’all again. Never thought I’d see Kes make it this long, ya did good,” Jesse lowers his voice so only she can hear as they continue unloading the truck. 

Coretta smiles tightly and nods, “We’ve gotten by.”

Mason notices Daryl about a second later and scowls at the man, “Why the hell ya back? Shoulda stayed gone!”

Coretta’s head whips around to look at her son, “Mason Evans, you shoot that arrow off and see what happens.”

Mason just glares even more fiercely when Daryl doesn’t say a word back, just chews his thumb and eyes the kids warily, “He ain’t even worth the fuckin’ arrow!”

Keston peaks around his brother and looks up at Daryl with big eyes, “Ya promised ya wouldn’t leave. Yer a liar.”

Daryl’s lips thin and Coretta has enough of her boys bothering the man, “It’s late, both y’all have said yer piece, go ta bed, now.”

“But, Momma—“ the boys start as one. 

“No, bed, now,” Coretta snaps it. 

The boys hesitate for a second then Jesse pipes up, “Y’all listen ta yer momma or I’ll tan both yer hides an’ yer gonna wish it were her doin’ it.”

That gets the boys hauling ass for the cellblock, though not without Mason giving Daryl one more filthy look. Jesse watches them run off until they get inside then looks at her, “Mason got a fuckin’ temper. He always been like that?”

“Gotten worse since this shit started,” Coretta admits and pulls a gun out of the truck bed. 

“Those yer brats?” Merle is chuckling as he grabs a box full of ammo. 

“Sure are. Pair of real angels, aren’t they?” Coretta grins ruefully. 

“The hell got ‘em so pissy?”

“Life.” Coretta says simply. Not interested in giving Merle a way to give her or anyone else shit for her sons’ former hero worship of Daryl. 

“Older one will shoot ya if he hears ya say the shit ya been sayin’ ta Coretta. He’s a mean one,” Daryl mumbles the warning to Merle. 

“He shoots me, kid best kill me,” Merle snorts, entirely unconcerned by the small, furious nine year old with a bow and arrow. 

Coretta narrows her eyes at the man, “Ya lay a hand on my kids, I’ll make ya wish ya were dead.”

Merle gives her a dangerous look, “Hell, sugartits, they shoot me, think I’m good and fuckin’ justified tannin’ their hides for ya.”

“No. Ya ain’t. They do that, I’ll deal with it. Far as yer concerned, they ain’t yer problem,” Coretta snaps and starts taking things inside. 

Things get moved inside quick enough and Rick shows Merle and Jesse to D-block. That leaves things awkward as Coretta and Daryl walk in the same direction and up the stairs to their respective sleeping spots. Mason is standing in his and Keston’s cell door with Molly-dog beside him and glaring at the redneck, “Stay away from my momma. Ya ain’t welcome!”

Daryl just eyes him and settles into his perch. Coretta shakes her head and lights a cigarette, “Bed, Mason. Leave the man alone.”

Mason glares a little longer but turns and climbs up into the top bunk. Molly-dog jumps onto Keston’s bed and curls up beside the little boy. Coretta stands by the railing for awhile and blows smoke, the whisky bottle she took from her trailer in the other hand. She don’t offer Daryl a cigarette or a drink even when she can feel his eyes on her. Just drinks until the world has a pleasant haze to it and puts out her cigarette. She pauses at the door to her cell and looks over at the man. He’s awake and his eyes meet hers, one eyebrow raised expectantly. 

She shifts a bit and says calmly, “Keston’ll forgive ya eventually. Mason might once he calms down.”

He makes a noise, “Don’t need their fuckin’ forgiveness. Ain’t my kids.”

Coretta laughs, “True enough. Don’t mean ya don’t want a little forgiveness though.”

She doesn’t wait for a reply. Just goes and collapses on her bunk. Sets the whisky on the floor and curls up into a tight ball on top of her blankets. Too tired to even take her shoes off. She’s still irritated at the man. Still kinda wants to yell at him. She just don’t care to tonight. Too much shit happened and too much shit is going to happen. She ain’t feeling inclined to drama of her own anytime soon. She feels more than sees Red jump onto the bunk with her. Whining softly as he licks her hands and flops down between her and the wall. Since Lucy died, he’s wanted to sleep in the bed more and Coretta ain’t had the heart to tell the coonhound no. 

The next morning, Coretta wakes up with a hangover and there’s a picture of Wade holding Mason on his shoulders tucked between the bars of her cell, still in its frame. Coretta blinks dumbly as she looks at it and sighs. She supposes word got out about her meltdown over not having a picture of Wade for the boys. She didn’t even think to grab one at the trailer. She’ll have to thank Daryl, she supposes as she plays with the leather cuff bracelet he’d found for her before all this. Gonna have to give this to the boys. They need this more than her. She’s got damn near twenty years worth of memories of their father. Had grown up with him. They only got a few years. They need this picture more than she ever will. Hopefully this will be enough to keep Mason from murdering either Dixon. She ain’t sure what the policy is for murderous children in the group. 


	40. Chapter 40

Andrea shows up almost as soon as Rick, Michonne, and Carl return for their own run. Coretta keeps her boys close to her and Jesse saunters over and leans against the bars of the cellblock to stand near them. His eyes are narrowed and fixated on the blonde woman. That ain’t a friendly look. Jesse’s been making napalm since they got back and she can smell the chemicals on him. The whole group is in a defensive, tense half circle between Andrea and where they sleep. Even Hershel’s normally kind face is closed off. 

Things have been tense already. Glenn keeps having fits over Jesse and Merle’s presence. Her boys have been potentially plotting to murder Daryl. Jesse’s bomb making is freaking people out and Merle is not exactly charming. At least Rick is putting his foot down whenever Glenn tries to get Jesse and Merle kicked out. Andrea appearing at their gates, when Michonne, Merle, and Jesse have all be open enough about telling everyone what Andrea’s been up to, has made things even worse. No one is offering the blonde smiles or hellos. Just narrow, wary gazes and arms crossed over chests. It doesn’t help that everyone is armed and has been since the Governor decided popping off shots was a good way to say hello. 

Coretta listens quietly as the fellow blonde asks after Shane and Lori and T-dog. Watches her face as she tries to offer sympathy to everyone. Then she tries to go see the cellblock and Rick gets in her face. Makes it real clear the line in the sand has been drawn. 

Andrea wants to negotiate. Wants them to not fight. Offers them places at Woodbury, that makes Jesse pipe up with a derisive snort, “I refuse ta believe the Governor’s been dickin’ ya down so well ya lost that many fuckin’ brain cells.”

Coretta wants a cigarette, but the baby is too close and she ain’t ‘bout to do that. Watching Andrea’s face get all offended is nice though. The woman splutters for a moment before snapping, “I don’t know who you think you are, Claire, but look around, this group? It’s lost enough already! If they fight, they’ll die!”

Daryl makes a noise, “It ain’t gonna be us in the damn ground.”

Jesse grins long and slow at Andrea, “Sweetheart, if I were ya, I’d find a new man, yers ain’t gonna be much use for yer needs for much longer.”

Andrea looks like she wants to hit Jesse, “The whole town is gearing up for war! They think you’re killers! They’re arming children!”

Coretta glances down at her sons. Mason has his bow and arrows, Keston has his slingshot. Mason can shoot a gun and Keston is going to start learning soon. Even still, she wouldn’t let Rick send them into a fight. Children might have to grow up fast now, but there’s a line. 

Here, Hershel leans forward, “You say you want us to negotiate, has he said he does?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Then why come?” Glenn spits it out. 

“Someone has to be the one to try,” Andrea sounds desperate. 

“So the woman who’s just the Governor’s _whore_ is gonna be it?” Jesse sounds like he’s having too much fun making sure everyone remembers Andrea is shacking up with the Governor. 

“Momma? What’s a whore?” Keston glances up at Coretta curiously. 

That makes Andrea zero in on Coretta, “You can’t think this is a good idea, Coretta, your sons—“

“Mention my sons again and I’ll break yer jaw,” Coretta snaps. 

Andrea scoffs and looks around, “Really? I made it out of Atlanta with most of you people and this is how I’m being treated? But Claire and Merle— who helped kidnap and _torture_ Glenn and Maggie— are welcome?”

“Seems ya made yer choice. Maybe that’s why,” Coretta drawls. 

Andrea looks increasingly frustrated, “This isn’t the way! I want to help, I’m trying here!”

Rick works his jaw, “You want to help? get us inside.”

“No! There’s innocent people, Rick! I won’t do that, just please, sit down and meet with Phillip. Talk to him,” She pleads. 

“Y’know that ain’t gonna work, Blondie,” Merle drawls and wipes his arm’s knife thing off with a rag. 

“You don’t know that! I’m trying to save lives here,” Andrea turns back to Rick, but it’s Daryl who answers. 

His voice is rough and irritated, “When ya see _Phillip_ again, ya let him know I’m gonna take his other eye.”

Things just keep devolving from there. Andrea gets into it with Michonne and eventually people scatter, loosing interest in the blonde as the pair step outside to talk. She ain’t staying. Ain’t no one willing to let her stay and she’s got her psycho boyfriend to get back to anyway. Jesse retreats back to D-block and his work on his explosives. Coretta goes to check over weapons, make sure they’re all working as they should. Mason and Keston trail after her the whole time and she quizzes them over proper firearm care and safety. She needs them to know these things. The world don’t care anymore if they’re children or not, if something happens to her, she needs them to have a fighting chance. Needs them to be strong as they can be. 

She ain’t expecting Merle to come swaggering in as she’s sending her boys off to help Carol with anything the woman needs doing. Carol does a little bit of everything and Coretta makes a point to have her kids help the woman where they can. Does them some good to help someone other than her and each other. She loads magazines with rounds and raises an eyebrow at him. 

He don’t need more than that to start talking, “Heard through the grapevine ya told Officer Friendly not lettin’ ol’ Merle come ta the prison was real stupid.”

“My brother was with ya, ‘course I was gonna tell him he was bein’ fuckin’ stupid,” Coretta just keeps loading magazines. 

“Coulda just argued for him, ya didn’t. Ya argued for everyone. What’s in it for ya, sweet cheeks?” He sounds irritated and amused all at once. 

“Bodies. Manpower. _Usefulness._ Jesse makes bombs for fun. In my experience, y’all Dixons ain’t bad ta have ‘round in a tight spot. We gonna need that shit, simple as that,” She pauses and lights up a cigarette before returning to her task. 

“So ya only want a couple more bodies ta throw at a problem? Ain’t got nothin’ ta do with my baby brother?” Merle sounds like he’s gauging her now. 

“Ain’t sure what yer implyin’, gonna have ta get ta the point if yer gonna keep botherin’ me,” Coretta blows smoke out of the corner of her mouth. 

“See, them kids of yers got me thinkin’ _real_ hard. Seem awful upset he left for a pair of kids that ain’t his. Y’all been playin’ house?”

“Yer brother is a valued member of the group. Ain’t sure what else yer lookin’ ta hear,” Coretta counts out rounds for the next magazine. 

“Now, may not seem like it, but my baby brother’s always been the sweet one, the type ta get attached ta people he ain’t got business gettin’ attached ta. Ya keepin’ up so far?” Merle puts one foot on the table and crosses his arms over his knee and leans towards her. 

“Sure,” Coretta takes another drag and watches the older Dixon in boredom. 

“That’s good, girlie, see, I don’t think gettin’ attached ta ya and those kiddies of yers is good for him. Real clear ya ain’t nothin’ but heartache waitin’ ta happen. I ain’t got nothin’ against ya, but I need ya and yer boys ta keep a nice, _professional_ distance. My baby brother’s a Dixon, he ain’t need y’all slowin’ him down,” Merle sounds like he’s advising her as much as warning her. 

“Yer baby brother is a grown man, Merle Dixon. Ya don’t want him ‘round us? Take it up with _him._ I don’t mind ya bein’ here, think ya could be a real good, useful member of the group if ya keep yer shit together, but ya ain’t my boss and I ain’t yer bitch. Try ta tell me what ta do again, and I promise ya, yer gonna lose that fight,” Coretta meets icy blue eyes steadily and blows smoke out lazily. She grew up with her Daddy, with Jesse, with Wade. Her daddy was the devil himself. Jesse and Wade both could be down right scary when they wanted to be. Ain’t a man left that could intimidate her. He’s gonna have to try harder if he wants to make her toe his line. 

Merle narrows his eyes at her and she knows he’s passing whatever he fuckin’ counts as judgement on her, “listen, here, sweetheart—“

“No, thank ya. Ya said yer piece. I’ve listened. Either help me with what I’m doin’ or fuck off. Ya got military experience, right? Ya think we got any chance in hell of survivin’ this?” Coretta interrupts. 

Merle seems startled by her interruption. Like he actually expected her to entertain his bullshit. Still, he rubs his jaw and answers her question, “Shoulda left when we could. They got the numbers, but with the stash we got, we’re even on fire power. ‘Specially since yer brother is a nutcase and makin’ bombs in D-block. Governor ain’t gonna stop ‘til he’s dead or we all are, Y’know that right?”

“So we kill him. And anyone else that tries ta take over after him. What happens if we set Jesse’s bombs up ‘round Woodbury’s walls?” Coretta tilts her head, “Explosions ain’t quiet, are they?”

Merle chuckles as he understands her implications, “Yer kinda fucked up, ain’t ya?”

“So’s the rest of the world. Survival of the fittest and all that good shit. Cigarette?” Coretta offers as she puts out her cigarette butt and pulls her pack out. 

Merle raises and eyebrow and takes one, “Thought that was _family only.”_

“We’re all gonna die together, ain’t like it matters,” Coretta mutters and passes him her lighter. 

“Damn, guess ya ain’t wrong. Y’know yer brother wants ta make and release chlorine gas on Woodbury?” Merle sounds mildly bothered by it. Which is fair, chemical warfare is a bit much. 

“Jesse is creative like that. Ain’t like makin’ that is hard. Doubt he’ll actually do it, mean as he can be,” Coretta’s hoping he wouldn’t anyway. But, with her brother, it’s hard to tell. Depends on what the game plan ends up being, she figures, “I wanted ta get one of those giant slingshots and send flamin’ Walker heads over Woodbury’s wall.”

That gets a loud laugh from the man, “Fuck, girlie, how the hell y’all end up so fuckin’ nuts? Thought ya’d be the sane one.”

“Daddy issues and mommy issues up the fuckin’ asses, probably,” Coretta laughs and makes sure to keep her bitterness out of her voice, “What’s Yer damage?”

Merle sneers at her, “Gonna have ta buy me a damn drink first.”

Coretta shrugs and stands up, “Sorry, recently found myself unemployed. Ain’t got the cash ta drop for a sob story.”

Merle takes a drag of the cigarette and eyes her as she starts to leave, “Gonna tell ya one more time, Sweet cheeks, yer just heartache waitin’ ta happen. Leave Daryl alone.”

Coretta just laughs as she walks away. Ain’t her problem what Merle thinks of her. Ain’t her problem if he thinks she’s gonna hurt Daryl. Ain’t her problem at all. They got bigger issues to worry about. Like murdering the fuckin’ Governor as soon as possible. 


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of Suicide, child abuse, miscarriage

Rick is going to a fuckin’ feed store to have a meeting with the fuckin’ Governor. At fuckin’ noon. Coretta very loudly voices her opinion on not just killing the man then. 

“Am I the only one who thinks not just killin’ him there is a bad idea? Fuck, people, one bullet and we’re done. Ain’t fuckin’ hard,” Coretta points out irritably. She studiously don’t think about watching the blood spray from the neck of the person she shot when they drove that truck full of walkers thorough the gate. 

“We aren’t doing that, not if we can settle this peacefully,” Rick shoots it down. 

“Jesse, ya got a bomb ready ta go?” Coretta glances at her brother.

He grins all mean and wild, “‘Course I do, can always set it up in the buildin’, wouldn’t be hard if we get there nice an’ early.”

Coretta gestures at her brother, “Boom, solution right there.”

“That’s not peaceful, Coretta, though I know you mean well,” Hershel sounds admonishing. 

“Ain’t ‘bout peaceful, ‘bout solvin’ a damn problem,” Jesse drawls, “Gotta get Martinez too, don’t need that fucker takin’ over. Even if he’s a better choice than the Governor.”

Glenn seems to agree, “If it means none of our people get hurt, why not?”

“If it’s possible, if Andrea is right and the Governor is willing to sit down and talk, we should try for peace first,” Rick’s voice is firm, “I’m taking Daryl and Hershel with me. Everyone else will stay here and be ready just in case.”

Coretta exchanges a glance with Jesse and shakes her head, “Whatever ya say, Bossman.”

Jesse just sighs, “Ain’t gonna work, but if ya wanna be stupid, who am I ta tell ya no?”

Rick gives the pair a warning look but ends the meeting. Coretta watches with sharp eyes as he and Daryl and Hershel prepare to leave. She gets Hershel’s preference for peace talks. What she don’t get is Daryl’s. He’s always backed Rick, is basically second in command, but she don’t see how he thinks this is going to work. Can’t imagine he’s dumb enough to actually think this Governor fucker is going to play nice. She figures he’s just putting his trust in Rick again. Man has a habit of doin’ that. 

Coretta checks her boys and the dogs are napping in their cell before she decides to go check out B-block. She figures Jesse could be a real help with that and goes to get him first. It’s a family affair after all. Ain’t right not to include him. 

She grabs her knife and her bow and strolls to where her brother is leaning against the wall near a pissed off Mere and picking at a scar on his forearm. She remembers that one. He’d gotten it from Daddy’s belt when he was fourteen. Had been dumb enough to try and fight the man and paid dearly for it. Still, dark blue eyes shine brightly at her when she whistles to get his attention, “Whatcha need, ‘Retta?”

“Y’know which prison this is? Give ya three guesses and the first two don’t count,” Coretta smiles without joy as she watches his eyebrows come together in thought. 

He stares down at her and real slowly says, “Yer fuckin’ shittin’ me.”

“Nope. Dixon’s been helpin’ me look. Ain’t found him yet, figure he’s in the last men’s cellblock or he ain’t here at all. Ya feel like havin’ a family reunion while we wait for this little parley ta end?” Coretta can see the old rage appear on Jesse’s face, combined with old hurt and resentment and a new manic excitement. She knows before he says it that he’s going to agree. 

“Shit, lemme grab my axe,” Jesse is practically skipping as he goes to get the Axe he’d been using. Apparently he lost his compound bow and ain’t found a good replacement yet. So he’s been wanderin’ around with and axe and a pistol. Coretta ain’t sure how he ain’t dead. Luck of the devil, she figures. 

Coretta resists the urge to light a cigarette, she’s been going through her convenience store sized stash too quick and she would like to delay unwillingly quitting for as long as she can. She waits impatiently for Jesse to come back. Her fingers tap tap tap against her thigh as the seconds pass. She ignores Merle and Glenn bickering over waiting in the prison or not. Just slips past them as soon as Jesse rejoins her, axe in hand, and ignores Glenn calling for her. They got family matters to settle. 

Jesse’s got the ax thrown over one shoulder as she leads him through the prison to cellblock B. Only one they ain’t cleared yet on this side of the prison. Ain’t sure why, just ain’t needed the space yet, she supposes. Ain’t worth the effort probably or the risk. It is for her and Jesse though. If their daddy is here, this is where they’ll find him. She won’t keep hunting after today. This is the end one way or another. 

They have to put down small groups of Walkers on their way to the cellblock. Jesse is covered in gore while she stays a bit cleaner using her bow. She ducks behind him when he decides to get up close and personal with a huge walker and picks off the other ones as quick as she can. They get to the doors of the cellblock and pause. They can see in through the sliding bar doors and there’s at least twenty Walkers in there that aren’t trapped in cells. 

Jesse eyes the Walkers as they notice them and start shambling over, “Deal with these guys through the bars, then go in?”

“Sounds good,” Coretta slings her bow over her shoulder and pulls out her buck knife. 

It’s as easy as killing them at the fence. Step forward. Stab. Retreat from grasping, rotting hands. Repeat. Jesse is more violent about it. Slamming the axe into skulls like he’s trying to see how hard he can hit them. The result is a large pile of dead bodies they have to climb over to get into the cellblock. Which is as nasty as everything else in this fucked new world. Coretta tries hard not focus on the feeling of rotting fuckin’ bodies under her feet, especially when her boots go through one of the bodies’ chests and there’s a horrible squelching noise when she pulls her foot out. Jesse just huffs and curses about how fuckin’ disgusting corpses are. 

There’s only a handful of closed cells but they all have Walkers in them. Coretta and Jesse walk slowly, pausing to shine a flash light into each cell to observe the walkers. Jesse starts talking real slow as they do, “Remember those nights he wouldn’t come home from the bar ‘cause he found some dumb bitch ta fuck?”

“Ya used ta wake me and Hunter up at two-thirty in the fuckin’ Mornin’ so we could watch movies without him gettin’ pissed at us for messin’ with the TV,” Coretta thinks those were some of the happiest nights of her childhood after their momma died. 

“Yeah, had ta be then, ‘cause if he weren’t home by then, he weren’t comin’ back that night. We could relax a bit,” Jesse nods. 

“Just had ta make sure he couldn’t tell we’d done it when he finally came back,” Coretta reminisces. They hadn’t ever touched the volume, had been careful to put everything back exactly the way it was before. Jesse used to save money just to buy movies for those nights. So they could see something new occasionally. They’d hidden those in the shitty mattress her and Hunter had shared until Jesse left. 

“Best times were when he was gone on a bender. Sure, meant bills weren’t gettin’ paid that month, but for a few days it was just the three of us. Could sleep good those days,” Jesse sounds almost like he misses those days. 

“Summers weren’t bad when Hunter was little and Daddy ignored him. Used ta just live in the fuckin’ woods. Only came in ta shower and check on him, remember?” Coretta had spent a lot of time out in the woods with Jesse when school wasn’t in session. Anything to hide from their daddy. 

“Used ta have ta drag ya outta that damn creek. Swear ya thought ya were a frog or some shit,” Jesse laughs lowly. 

“Yer the one who used ta kick me outta the house for hours with nothin’ ta do but mess with yer old bow,” Coretta counters, “‘Course I got more comfortable out there.”

“Then ya did the same thing ta Hunter,” They both pretend his voice doesn’t crack when he says Hunter’s name. 

“‘Course. I learned watchin’ ya. Hell else was I supposed ta do?” Coretta comes tostop in front of one cell and stares at the Walker inside reaching through the bars for them. 

Jesse shines the light on it and his face goes hard, “Looks like time ain’t been kind ta him.”

Coretta’s lip curls in distaste as she looks at the Walker that had been their father. Not as huge as her memory tells her he should be. Looks like an older, rotted Jesse though. Jesse has always been the man’s spitting image except for Momma’s hair color. Just like she was the spitting image of their momma. Her hand tightens on her knife, “Ain’t so big anymore.”

“Nah, ya just grew up, ‘Retta. He just ain’t nothin’ worth fearin’ anymore,” Jesse’s voice is a strange mix of hate and pain and softness. 

“I hope he’s burnin’ in the hell he never believed in,” Coretta breathes out. 

“He don’t even deserve that much. He deserves ta be nothin’ at all,” Jesse growls it out, “Ya got Wade’s ‘shine?”

“In my cell,” Coretta answers without taking her eyes off the dead man they had the misfortune of being born to. 

“I’mma go get some. Don’t kill him yet,” Jesse orders and slips away from her. Leaves her alone with the groaning, reaching, rotting corpse of their old man. Coretta’s eyes don’t leave him the entire time, even as it feels like hours before Jesse returns. 

He’s quiet as he returns with jar of shine that’s only half full, takes a small sip and says calmly, “He were always a piece of shit, Y’know. Used ta, before ya were born, it was only Momma who got it from him. Started small, a hit here, a slap there. More he drank an’ the more jobs he lost an’ the more depressed she got, the meaner he’d get.”

“Momma was always sad,” Coretta remembers that the most about their momma. That she was sad. That she hardly smiled and seemed to just stare at the wall and not move on the real bad days. 

“Weren’t always. She used ta bleed out babies a lot. S’why there’s a seven year age gap between us. Hunter an’ ya were damn miracles. Every time she’d lose one, Daddy would beat her bloody and she’d get sadder. He’d accuse her of killin’ his kids on purpose. Used ta wish they’d just stop tryin’,” Jesse sounds like it hurt to remember that. 

“She lost one between me and Hunter, didn’t she?” Coretta thinks she remembers being told something like that. 

“Yeah. Just the one. Never could get pregnant again after Hunter though. Damn blessin’ there,” Jesse’s voice is distant as he remembers, “Ya were barely one then.”

“Hunter was her favorite, weren’t he?” She vaguely remembers she seemed a bit more loving towards him than her or Jesse. 

“Yeah. But she prayed most for ya,” Jesse shares as he takes another sip of ‘shine and hands her the jar, “When she were carryin’ ya in her belly, she’d pray all sortsa prayers for ya. Prayed ya’d be pretty. Prayed ya’d be smart. Prayed ya’d be stronger than her. Prayed ya’d be happy. She only prayed that much for ya.”

Coretta takes a sip of the nasty liquid and stares at the Walker, “I didn’t know.”

“I only know ‘cause I overheard her a few times,” Jesse admits, “Daddy was real sweet ta her that whole pregnancy. Like he actually loved her an’ shit.”

“Did he ever love any of us?” Coretta wonders if there was ever a time he actually loved them. 

“Don’t think he knew how. Once, though, when ya were a baby, ya got real sick, like thought ya were gonna die sick. Daddy sobered up an’ sat with ya the entire time ‘til ya got better. Didn’t sleep the whole damn time. Think he tried ta love us, when we were little, at least,” Jesse sounds like he hates that the man ever even tried. That he had moments where he seemed to actually care. 

“Then Momma decided hangin’ from a ceilin’ fan weren’t a bad idea,” Coretta remembers that all too well. Remembers being six and standing behind Jesse as they stared up at their Momma. Remembers thinking the woman was just standing funny on the bed at first. That’s the best memory she has of her mother’s face that ain’t from a faded, torn photo. Purple and slack with a swollen tongue sticking out of her mouth and piss still dripping down her legs. 

“Yeah. Then Daddy decided it was fine ta beat us next since she were gone,” Jesse takes the jar from her and takes a long drink from it, “I wanna see if yer aim is any better, back up far as ya can and show me a heart shot.”

Coretta narrows her eyes and backs up until she’s a foot or so from the far wall and nocks an arrow to her bow. She takes her time aiming. Wants to get this right. Wants to see if their daddy actually had a heart between his lungs. Wants to make sure she hits it if he did. She takes a deep breath as she draws the string back until she can’t anymore. She lets go on the exhale and stares at the arrow protruding from the Walker’s chest. 

“Right lung shot now,” Jesse orders in the way he used to when teaching her to use the bow as kids. 

She knocks another arrow. Lines it up carefully. Wants a perfect line across her daddy’s chest. Ignores the fact their avoiding actually putting him down. She breathes in. Breathes out. Let’s the arrow fly. Listens as it embeds itself exactly where she wanted it. 

“Left lung shot.”

Coretta knocks another arrow and complies. Her eyes are fixed on that line of arrows as she lowers her bow and walks back to stand with her brother. She takes the moonshine from him and calm as can be asks, “Who puts him down?”

“Could burn him, ain’t like concrete gonna let fire spread everywhere,” Jesse muses. 

“Like the trailer,” Coretta remembers sitting on Jesse’s truck’s tailgate as he burned down their childhood home. The fire department hadn’t even shown up to stop them. No one had given a shit that the remaining Claire kids were committing arson. Everyone in that damn trailer park knew why and didn’t see fit to stop them. Had just come and watched too as that shitty ass trailer went up in flames. 

“Just like that damn trailer, could use the shine ta speed it up if yer willin’ ta part with this jar,” Jesse nods to the jar she’s taking a long sip from. 

Coretta hands him the jar, “Let him burn in this world like he’s burnin’ in the next.”

Jesse nods seriously and takes the jar. Coretta hardy breathes as she watches him splash shine onto their daddy’s corpse as it keeps trying to reach them. Watches as he makes a point to get most of it on the Walker’s head. She starts to offer her lighter, but Jesse pulls his own out and carefully lights the man up and leaps back as flames engulf him. They stand together in silence as they watch him burn for as long as they can. 

They stay until the smoke is too much and they need to leave. Stop just long enough to check and make sure the fire won’t be spreading out from the dead man. Neither of them say a word when Glenn demands to know where they went or when Maggie asks why they smell like smoke or why they’re covered in gore. They just wave the questions away as Coretta decides to show her brother where the showers are. They need to wash away the last remnants of the man that made their lives hell. 


	42. Chapter 42

The little negotiation party comes back to the prison and Coretta is dying to call bullshit. Rick is a good liar. She’ll give him that, but his eyes give it away. Too expressive. Hunter was like that too. The eyes always give it away. She ain’t sure why he lied and said the Governor wants war. Ain’t sure what was discussed instead, but she supposes Rick’s chosen war over whatever solution was proposed instead. Coretta has to light a cigarette thinking about it. She don’t want war. Don’t want a fight. But running ain’t an option and surrender ain’t either. He should have let Jesse bomb the hell outta the Governor. Saved them all the hassle. 

As it stands, there’s nothing to do now but wait for shit to hit the fan. Nothing to do but wait and pray and prepare. Makes her want to get the boys and hide. Makes her want that shine shack back. Makes her want to rage and curse. Makes her want a lot of things. She’s never liked waiting. Never liked feeing helpless. It ain’t her way. Makes her want to fight. Makes her meaner than she’d like to be. So she keeps a cigarette in her mouth and paces the cellblock like a caged animal to keep from twisting off on anyone. 

Her boys are playing uno with Sophia, even if Mason is keeping that bow of his within grabbing reach. The dogs are napping on the cool concrete nearby. The baby is crying and Carl is trying to be older than he is. Rick has disappeared off to talk to Hershel in private. Michonne is working out. Glenn is stewing and Merle just will not shut the fuck up. 

Coretta paces and paces and Daryl ends up growling at her, “Fuck, woman, Makin’ everyone fuckin’ nervous with all that pacin’ shit.”

She glares at him, wishing he hadn’t bothered her, wishing he’d just leave her the fuck alone, because she feels like one of Jesse’s bombs right before it goes off. She blows smoke in his direction and curls her lip, “Yer free ta run off again if it upsets ya so bad.”

She can practically hear his teeth grinding at that comment. She doesn’t care though, just walks up the stairs to her cell and goes to slip by him like it’s nothing. His hand shoots out and grabs her upper arm in a soft grip as she does and he grits out low and frustrated, “Came back, didn’t I? Ain’t that mean shit?”

Coretta works her jaw and eyes the hand on her arm, “It supposed ta?”

His hand retracts slowly and he looks away, “Guess not.”

“Yeah. Exactly,” Coretta finishes walking up the stairs and slips into her cell. Paces that short length of space instead. She doesn’t even know who she’s pissed at. The Governor or Rick or Daryl or the world or just her shitty fuckin’ life. She’s just pissed and stressed and waiting for more bullshit. Something has to give. This waiting game won’t last long. 

She paces for hours, skips dinner and can hear her boys put themselves to bed. Can hear Beth singing like she’s in a fuckin’ concert. Watches as Red comes trotting into her cell and crawls under the bunk. Coretta doesn’t stop pacing even as her feet hurt from it. Keeps pacing until the sheet she put up moves aside and Daryl is knocking softly on her cell’s bars. She pauses with a raised eyebrow and gestures for him to come in. He does, though it’s clear he’s uncomfortable doing it. 

She pulls out another cigarette, one of many since Rick declared war, and leans against her bunk, “Dixon.”

“Ain’t gonna tell me ta fuck off?” He sounds like he’s almost hoping she will. 

“What ya want?” Coretta is suddenly tired. Too tired to fight. Too tired to care. She just wants him to get to whatever it is he came here for. 

He chews his thumb for a moment before saying real low, “Ya really so pissed I left?”

“I get why ya left. I get blood well and good. Don’t mean I gotta be okay with it. The group needs ya, in case yer blind,” Coretta sighs and looks at the cigarette, “And ya damn near broke my boys’ hearts. Mason went and cussed Rick and Glenn out over it, Y’know.”

“Sounds like some shit he’d do. They’d’ve been fine. Woulda forgotten real quick,” Daryl sounds gruff and awkward and like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Nah. They’d’ve remembered. Will remember. They ain’t babies. Their memories work fine. Keston was cryin’ and I couldn’t fix it,” Coretta takes a drag and exhales, “Can’t fix a lot these days.”

Daryl works his jaw and she can tell he’s struggling to figure out what to say, “Claire, Jesse, whatever the fuck yer brother goes by, damn near tried ta break my jaw when Merle asked ‘bout ya ‘cause Glenn said yer name ‘round him. Merle had ta step in. Yer brother don’t fuck ‘round. Said if I’d hurt ya or anythin’, he’d kill me slow.”

Coretta snorts, “Sounds like Jesse. Threatened Wade more times than I can count. Funny thing was, he only ever said it sober. S’how I knew he meant it, ‘cause he don’t lie ‘bout family when he’s sober. If it helps, he ain’t mention killin’ ya ta me yet.”

He squints at her and changes the subject, “Yer scared of what’s happenin’. Ya gonna take those boys and run?”

Coretta’s thought about it, but she shakes her head, “Ain’t nowhere ta run. Ain’t ya figured it out yet, Dixon? We’re all gonna die together. Best pick where ya want yer grave.”

“Ain’t no one gonna die. Not ya. Not Mason. Not Keston. Y’all gonna live,” He sounds angry all of the sudden. Like she’s pissed him off by saying what she’s been thinking. 

She shrugs, “Can’t promise that. ‘Sides, me and my boys ain’t yer concern. Whatever debt ya think ya owed for me keepin’ Sophia among the livin’? Been paid a long while now.”

That makes him pissed. She can see the muscles in his arms flex as his eyes narrow dangerously at her, “Ya think I been takin’ care of y’all outta fuckin’ debt or some other dumb shit?”

“Why the hell else ya bother with us? Ain’t like yer a real friendly fucker, barely talk ta anyone most of the damn time,” She shifts awkwardly under the heaviness of his stare. 

“Ain’t ever been fuckin’ repayin’ some damn debt, woman. Thought ya had a fuckin’ brain,” he snarls it low and furious. 

Coretta glares, “Got enough of a brain ta know Rick is fuckin’ lyin’ and I want ta know why.”

Daryl seems to freeze as he processes that, “Don’t fuckin’ be tellin’ people that shit. Don’t matter anyway, don’t think he’ll be able ta go through with it.”

“Go through with what, Dixon?” Coretta steps towards him and tilts her head to look up and study his face better. Hair is getting longer. He still refuses to let her cut it. He needs another fuckin’ shower and he looks worn out for all his irritation. 

His jaw works side to side like he’s chewing the words and he don’t like happy at all as he tells her— because Dixon ain’t a liar— real quietly, “Governor wants Michonne.”

Coretta blinks and a cold shiver rolls down her spine. She may not know Michonne well and the woman may watch Keston like he’s a ghost or demon sent to haunt her, but she don’t think giving her to the man is a good idea. Coretta steps back and looks up at the ceiling, “One time, right before Jesse left, I don’t remember why, maybe daddy was in a mood that day, maybe we did something. I ain’t sure anymore, but he lined us all up against the wall of our living room— Jesse an’ me an’ Hunter. Told us one of us could catch the beatin’ or all of us could. We had ta choose between ourselves who got it. Jesse took it. Got beat black an’ blue and me an’ Hunter had ta watch. Then he beat me an’ Hunter ‘cause he could an’ he were a liar. If y’all think that offerin’ one up ta save the rest works, it don’t.”

Daryl is silent for a moment, “Rick’s a good guy, he ain’t gonna do it, I don’t think.”

Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette and shakes her head, “I got an idea. High risk, high reward.”

“Ya ain’t gonna do shit, woman. Yer gonna stay here with those boys and away from the fuckin’ Governor,” Daryl sounds genuinely worried underneath his gruff, irritated tone. 

Coretta doesn’t lie often, it ain’t something she likes. She thinks it’s a waste of fuckin’ energy. But she ain’t above it. If she’s got the right reasons, she’ll do it. Better to ask forgiveness than beg permission and all that shit. She gives him a put out look but raises her hands in surrender, “Fine, Dixon. I’ll stay outta it. Governor ain’t gonna take kindly ta not bein’ given that woman, though.”

“Ya just said ya think givin’ him Michonne is a bad idea,” He points out. 

“Yeah. It is. Not givin’ her ta him without a fuckin’ plan is worse. But ya want me ta stay outta it, I will. And when we all die, I’mma gladly say I fuckin’ told ya so in the afterlife,” Coretta puts her cigarette out in the ashtray she found and looks at it for a minute, “Do me a favor?”

“What?” He sounds wary. 

“This shit goes wrong, we all end up on the receivin’ end of the Governor’s crazy, make sure my boys get out alive, if I can’t,” Coretta’s voice is soft as she comes to terms with the plan forming in her head. She’ll need Jesse for it. Maybe another person. Gonna need to get out of the prison without being noticed. 

Daryl is furious again and gets her backed against the wall in a heartbeat, “Ain’t gonna do that, ya hear me? Ain’t gonna need ta do that shit. So quit fuckin’ talkin’ like yer dead already.”

Coretta’s eyes lock on his and she gives him a small smile, “Careful, Dixon, gonna make me think yer gonna miss me.”

He just makes an irritated noise and steps back, “Quit fuckin’ ‘round.”

Coretta doesn’t say a word back as he leaves. She has plans to work out. Things to come to terms with and details to wheedle out of people. She ain’t expecting it to go well for her. She just needs it to fuckin’ work. Remove the threat to her kids before it can get any worse. Jesse will help. He’s always helped when she’s asked. Even when he’d rather be too high to think, he’d help if she needed it. She’ll need his help one more time. 


	43. Chapter 43

Jesse doesn’t say a word as she whispers her plan to him in the early hours of the morning. Just sits and finishes his second bomb. When she’s done, he nods once, “Gonna be dangerous, Baby ‘Retta. I’ll handle Woodbury’s gate. Ya handle the feed store. Better chance of ya comin’ back that way.”

“Tell me how the bomb works,” Coretta gestures to the finished one.

“Simple enough. So it’s filled with fuckin’ shrapnel. This little switch here? Connected ta a timer I made outta a watch. Ain’t real elegant, but gets the job done. Flip the switch, get the hell away. It’ll go off ten minutes later. Do not be near it when it does. Find good cover if ya can’t get leave,” Jesse’s voice is serious as it ever it, “We live, I’mma teach ya how ta make ‘em yerself. Shoulda done that years ago.”

“Where’d ya even learn ta do this?”

“Trial and error and libraries,” Jesse grins a little at her, “Take a gun, not yer bow. A gun. Run if ya have ta. Don’t be stupid.”

“What ‘bout ya?” Coretta wishes he weren’t insisting on helping more than this. 

“Luck of the damn Devil, remember? Don’t worry ‘bout me. Worry ‘bout yer job an’ yer life. Ya hear me?” Jesse glares at her as he keeps his voice low enough not to attract Merle’s attention. 

“I hear ya fine. Yer bomb the same kind?” Coretta eyes the second one warily. 

“Nah. This one is a bit more explosive. Put napalm in it,” Jesse sounds extremely proud of himself as he carefully placed her bomb in a backpack with the switch locked into the off position. 

“When do we leave?” Coretta tilts her head. 

“Soon, gonna have ta go on foot. Takin’ one of the cars is gonna be noticed. Go kiss yer babies goodbye and we’ll go,” Jesse’s eyes are worn looking but as hard as stone, “I’ll get the guns, meet me out back where ya said those people got in.”

“Alright. Be there soon,” Coretta stands and slips out. Not pausing when she hears Merle stirring from his cell. No one is really up yet except for Daryl and Rick and they ain’t in the cellblock. They’re outside workin’ on the gate the Governor fucked up. This is the only time they’ll get to slip out and it’s a long walk to their locations.

Coretta checks her knife’s sharpness as she goes up the stairs to her sons’ cell. Shushes Molly-dog when the dog raises her head and her tail starts thumping the bed. Her sons are both dead to the world. Mason is snoring softly and Keston is twitching in his sleep. They’ve grown. She remembers when they were so tiny and she would spend every second she could just looking at them. How Mason had hated tummy time more than anything and seemed to want to walk without crawling first. She used to tell him to take his time, she remembers, used to tell him there’d be plenty of time to run, even knowing he wouldn’t understand her. How Keston had a favorite stuffed animal— a giraffe— that they’d lost when the world ended. He’d never complained over it though. Her babies had never much complained. Wade used to said they learned it from her. 

Coretta stands on her tiptoes and kisses Mason’s head, breathing in the smell of her son. He needs a bath, but even still, she loves his smell. Loves everything about her boys. This has to work. She can’t afford for it to fail. She goes down on her knees and pets Keston’s hair next until his twitching stops. His hair is curled at the ends like Wade’s. Her baby is gonna be real pretty when he’s older. Because he is going to be older one day. He’s gonna live to be Mason’s age. To be Hunter’s age. To be her age. Her boys won’t die. Not here or anywhere else. She kisses his head too before standing up. Scratches Molly-dog behind the ears for a moment then slips back out as quietly as she came. 

She has to move quietly. Winces every time one of the doors in the prison makes a noise when she opens it. She finds the opening Tyreese’s people came through easily enough. They need to patch that up. It’s a security hazard. Jesse is waiting there with two of the heavy duty guns and a pair of backpacks that both have bombs in them. 

He hands her the smaller bag and one of the guns, “We’ll stick together as long as we can. Split up when it’s time. The meetin’ is supposed to take place at noonfrom what I overheard Rick tellin’ Hershel. Yer people gotta work on Makin’ sure they ain’t bein’ overheard.”

“Ain’t shocked there, be safe?” Coretta and Jesse may have their issues, but he’s always been her big brother, she ain’t ready to be an only child anytime soon. 

“Safe as we ever are. Don’t stick ‘round, ‘Retta, get in, set the bomb, bug the fuck out,” Jesse returns as they start towards the place they’ll split up. About a half mile out from the prison, she’ll go to the feedstore, he’ll go to Woodsbury. She hopes they’ll both make it home. 

They don’t speak again as they walk. Pausing only to kill Walkers that come near them. Coretta’s heart is beating out of her chest and the backpack feels heavier than it really is. She feels eerily calm though. It’s an unnatural kind of calm, but it’s calm all the same. Her head is clearer than it’s been in awhile. 

They pause at the place they’re splitting up and just stay there for a minute. Jesse looks around and up at the sky and then at her, “Remember, once you flip that switch, you have ten minutes, get the fuck out.”

“Got it. See ya on the other side?” Coretta grins at him like they’re kids dicking ‘round in the woods again.

Jesse returns the grin, “Fuck yeah, ‘Retta.”

They don’t speak again as they part ways. Coretta going straight while he goes to the left. There’s no going back now. She makes sure to try and cover her tracks as she goes. No reason to make it easy for Daryl to interfere. The trail of dead walkers she’s leaving as she goes makes that pointless, she figures. It’s a long walk and Coretta debates trying to Hotwire a car. She doesn’t want to risk the alarms going off though. She wants to do this quietly for as long as she can. Doesn’t want Walkers complicating things. Less problems the better. 

She gets there irritatingly early judging by the sun’s position. At least an hour early. So she checks the entire place out. Walks between the silos and wanders in and out of the buildings. Checks for walkers and tries to figure out where the fuck the best place to put the bomb will be. She eyes the direction she came in from and the direction Jesse went in. She gambles on them being direct. 

Walks out maybe twenty feet from the feed-store and sets the bag on the ground. Unzips it and eyes the bomb inside carefully. It’s nearly noon and she really doesn’t want this thing to go off too soon. She has to cut it close. Has to risk them catching her. She glares at it and glares at the sky. Then she hears fucking music. Loud as shit fucking music coming up the damn dirt road from behind the mill. Coretta starts cursing hard and flips the damn switch. Grabs her gun and takes off into one of the buildings. 

She’s not expecting Merle to come out of nowhere and yank her down near a window, “Hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Bomb. We ain’t got long. Need ta get good cover,” Coretta don’t ask what the fuck Merle is doing here.

Merle gives her a look that says he thinks she’s batshit insane and glances through the window he’s setting his gun up in, “Bitch, are ya outta yer damn mind? Should be back at the fuckin’ prison with the rest of them chuckleheads.”

“Ya ain’t supposed ta be here either,” she hisses and starts checking her gun, “The hell ya doin’ here?”

“Here ta kill the damn Governor. Yer gonna cover me while I take him and his fuckers out, ya hear me? Yer stayin’ where I can keep a fuckin’ eye on ya, don’t need Darylina bein’ all pissy ‘cause I let ya get shot,” He sounds royally pissed. 

“Sure, don’t give a shit, just don’t wanna blow up with them fuckers,” Coretta snaps and starts checking her gun over. Merle was not part of the damn plan. The sound of cars pulling up draws their attention. 

“Fuck, stay down, girlie, they’re here, when that bomb supposed ta go off?” Merle flips his safety off and starts popping off shots. 

“Couple more minutes. Four? Five, maybe? Not sure, ain’t got a watch,” Coretta curses when she hears the familiar groans of Walkers amid the sounds of shouting and gunfire. 

“It in that Damn backpack?” Merle growls out as he fires another shot. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, idiots parked right behind it. Didn’t even fuckin’ look at it, might get lucky, sweet cheeks,” he’s talking fast as fuck as he keeps going. 

Coretta curses and has to twist around and put down a walker that made it in with them. The fuckin’ bomb goes off almost immediately afterwards. Merle grabs her and drags her back to the floor as the bomb shatters windows and shrapnel comes dangerously close to stabbing right where her head had just been.

Merle is laughing like a fuckin’ maniac as they regain their bearings, “Holy shit, yer brother ain’t fuckin’ ‘round when he makes those things, huh?”

Coretta’s ears are ringing as she stumbles to her feet and tries to figure out if it worked. She’s breathing hard as she grabs her gun and pants out, “Go big or go home.”

Merle’s laughter ceases out of nowhere when he glances out the window and he’s on his feet with his gun up before she can blink. His face is twisted in fury and he’s popping shots off through the window again like a demon. She gets it when she hears a car driving away as fast as it can, he stops and starts cursing before turning to glare at her, “He got away, ya hear me? Bastard managed ta survive! Him and that stupid fuckin’ Martinez.”

“Won’t survive Jesse,” Coretta thinks her nose is bleeding from that fuckin’ bomb. She’s almost positive she’s concussed. 

Merle glares, “Hell is he gonna do?”

“Blow up their front gate. They broke our gate, we break theirs,” Coretta grins stupidly and sways a bit as he takes her gun from her.

Merle is cussing up a fucking storm, “Bitch, y’all Claire’s ain’t right in the fuckin’ heads. Gonna get yerselves killed. C’mon, them Biters gonna be fuckin’ swarmin’ after that fuckin’ light show.”

Coretta giggles a bit and obediently follows him, things are on fire outside and there’s a small crater where the backpack was and corpses and body parts and Walkers everywhere. Coretta keeps her knife in her hand as she forces herself to focus even as she’s a bit dizzy from the blast. She ain’t gonna get bit today. Fuck that. She didn’t blow up and she didn’t get fuckin’ shot. Ain’t gonna get bit. Not today. No sirree. 

Merle is primarily dealing with the walkers. Cussing them and her and the Governor to hell and back the whole fuckin’ time. Coretta doesn’t mind. They ain’t dead. Jesse hopefully won’t be either. She manages to keep one eye out for Walkers and another out for the sight of smoke. 

Daryl meets them halfway back and it’s clear he’s been running. Clear he’s royally fuckin’ pissed. Coretta giggles a bit as him and Merle start yelling at each other. That’s a mistake. Daryl turns his fury on her, “Quit fuckin’ _laughin’!_ Ain’t nothin’ ‘bout this fuckin’ _funny!_ Told ya ta stay in the fuckin’ prison, woman! Hell were ya even thinkin’?! Coulda fuckin’ _died!_ Ya got those fuckin’ kids! Gonna leave ‘em damn orphans?! Hell is _wrong_ with ya?!”

Coretta just grins stupidly at him and pulls out a cigarette, “Knew ya cared.”

Daryl makes a noise like a pissed off dog and takes the cigarette from her before she can light it, “‘Course I care, ya fuckin’ idiot! Fuckin’ _bullshit_ runnin’ off like that ta pull this shit! Didn’t realize ya were fuckin’ suicidal!”

Coretta pulls another cigarette out just to spite him and lights it as she jerks her face away before he can take this one too, “Ain’t suicidal. Ain’t stupid. Don’t fuckin’—“

She breaks off and whips her head around as a low, distance rumble comes from the direction of Woodbury. There’s smoke climbing up into the sky and she starts laughing all over again, “Looks like Jesse did his fuckin’ part. What, Dixon? Thought it weren’t a family affair?”

The Dixon’s are both looking at that smoke. Merle starts laughing too even as Daryl looks like he’s about to start yelling again, “Shit, Looks like Woodbury’s got new problems. Relax, Darylina, yer girl ain’t dead and neither am I. Shit worked fine. Quit bein’ a little bitch ‘bout it.”

Coretta just muffles her giggles at the dark look Daryl is giving them both as they start back towards the prison. It’s a long walk back and Coretta’s head hurts like a bitch and the Dixon brothers keep bickering and cursing each other and her when she pipes up. Coretta don’t mind none. She ain’t dead. Both bombs worked. Hopefully, Jesse meets them back at the prison. She figures she’s gonna get an earful from Rick next, but with her likely concussion and the fact she ain’t dead, she don’t really give a shit. Ain’t like he can be that mad. They got shit done. 


	44. Chapter 44

Rick yells a lot. At her and Merle. Then promptly announces his dictatorship ain’t workin’ since he lied and all ‘bout Michonne. It’s a bit of a whiplash feeling, but Coretta is just glad it’s over with. Then Jesse saunters in covered in ashes and Walker gore from that fuckin’ security breach of a back entrance like he went on a Sunday fuckin’ stroll. 

“Don’t think Woodbury’s gonna be worried ‘bout us for a good while,” He drawls as everyone stares at him. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the stares, just puts his gun up and grabs an instant ramen out the food stores and tosses it in the microwave. 

“What the hell did you do?” Rick sounds pissed again. 

“Blew one of their gates sky fuckin’ high. Yer welcome,” Jesse is entirely unrepentant. 

“There are innocents in there!” Rick snaps. 

“Didn’t blow ‘em up. Just the gates. Big worry’s the Biters. I rang the fuckin’ mother of all dinner bells for everyone of the nasty bastards in a ten mile radius. Maybe they’ll get shit fixed ‘fore they show, maybe they won’t. Innocents gotta fightin’ chance. Can always run while they can. Ain’t my concern, truth be told,” Jesse glances over at the group finally and his eyes are colder than normal. Like some kind of light went out in him somewhere between them leaving this morning and his return. Coretta don’t like that one bit. Makes him look even more like daddy. 

“The Governor dead?” Coretta’s voice is softer than normal, the voice she’d use when they were kids and if she used the wrong tone Daddy would flip shit. It’s been a long time since she’s used that tone. 

Jesse seems to recognize that tone for what it is and a funny shudder goes through his shoulders when he looks at her, “Ain’t sure. Didn’t fuckin’ stick ‘round ta watch. Nice ta see ya too, ‘Retta. I’m fine, in case ya were worried.”

“If ya weren’t fine, ya’d’ve stayed gone,” She retorts, voice returning to normal. 

The microwave goes off and he takes his ramen out as he mutters, “Rot slow, ‘Retta.”

Coretta ain’t heard that one before, but it clicks easily enough. Only Walkers take a long time to rot. Fucker is telling her to go become a fuckin’ Walker. He’s definitely fuckin’ fine if he’s coming up with new ways to insult and curse people, “After ya.”

“So what? After all this, we don’t even know if the Governor is gone?” Glenn sounds furious. 

“Yer free ta go find out for yerself, punchin’ bag. Watch out for fuckin’ Biters,” Jesse snaps immediately, far less nice with him than he his with Coretta. Family privilege and all that. 

He wanders over with his food, ruffles each of her sons’ hair and sits on the stairs beside her. There’s a silence as everyone thinks through what to do now. Rick speaks up, “This is a chance, at worst, they’ve bought us time. At best, it’s over. We’ll prepare and plan for now like it’s for the worst. Build our defenses up. Keep an eye out for the Governor and his people. If he’s not dead, he’s going to be out for blood.”

No one speaks up to disagree. 

Rick looks over at her and Jesse, “No more bombs. Not unless we need them, understand?”

Jesse swallows the ramen he’d been eating and offers a mocking salute, “Sir yes Sir.”

Coretta just nods and shifts her position as Keston crawls into her lap and tucks himself under her chin. No more bombs. Not if they ain’t needed. Takes resources to make ‘em. Resources better spent elsewhere if a bomb ain’t needed. 

Things are quiet for the rest of the night. Jesse retreats to cellblock D even though Rick announces that he and Merle are allowed to move into cellblock C, since there’s plenty of free cells to choose from. Even Glenn doesn’t voice his dissent there aside from making it clear they ain’t gonna be neighboring his and Maggie’s cell if they know what’s good for ‘em. 

Mason and Keston cling to her and give anyone who comes near her venomous glares. Makes it a bit difficult when she wants to go shower and piss. Like having two pint sized bodyguards. Least it means she can shove them in the showers too and clean them up. She manages to get both of them clean as they can be and gets them fed easily enough. Apparently, her running off to do dumb shit makes them oddly obedient. She ain’t sure why. Should’ve read more parenting books probably. She don’t think the ones she read had discussed this scenario. 

She gets them put to bed after having to sing them five songs in a row before they settle and ends up wandering over to where Daryl is in his perch, sharpening his buck knife. He glares at her as she takes a seat crosslegged in front of him, but doesn’t tell her to fuck off. She figures that as close a welcome as she’ll get right now. She sighs and digs out her cigarette pack and offers him one, “Ain’t gonna say sorry for what I did. Am sorry yer pissed though. Weren’t my intention.”

He takes the cigarette and lights it before snarling, “Yeah? Hell was yer intention? ‘Cause it sure as shit seems like it were, ya fuckin’ liar. Ya told me ya wouldn’t get fuckin’ involved.”

Coretta lights her own cigarette and shrugs, “Woulda ya have let me do it if I were honest? Did what I felt I had ta.”

He scoffs, “‘Course I woulda stopped ya. I ain’t allowed ta up and leave then ya ain’t allowed ta up and die.”

Coretta blows a smoke ring before responding, “Woulda ya had grieved me if I’d died? When ya left, I was pissed. The more pissed ‘cause ya came back like ya never fuckin’ left. Never did like shit like that.”

Daryl’s eyes are on her and in the low light she can’t see the blue in them, “Ain’t leavin’ again.”

“Holdin’ ya ta that, Dixon. Ya ain’t answer my question, would ya have grieved?” Coretta don’t know why she wants that answer, but she does. Maybe she’s just curious if anyone besides her sons and Jesse would care. 

Daryl takes the longest drag of his cigarette she’s seen and doesn’t look at her before mumbling, “Hell ya think?”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “Think ya’d miss me something fierce if the way ya got mad earlier means shit.”

Even in the low light she swears his face colors red a bit, “Knew ya weren’t as fuckin’ stupid as ya been actin’.”

“Why?” Coretta tilts her head and watches him blow smoke out one corner of his mouth. 

“What?”

“I know ya heard me just fine, Daryl Dixon,” Coretta grins slowly when he stops sharpening his knife to look at her fully, eyebrows pulled together. 

“It matter?”

“Maybe.” Coretta’s not sure if it’s the left over adrenaline of the day, her concussion or the fact he admitted he cared earlier that’s making her want to push him. She’s not sure it really matters, “Been awhile since someone outside of blood would have reason ta miss me.”

He makes a grunting noise but doesn’t respond. Coretta puts her cigarette out on the concrete and plays with the leather cuff he gave her, she can see his eyes follow the movement, “Don’t think I’ve ever thanked ya for all ya’ve done for me and the boys. Should’ve by now. So thank ya.”

He ducks his head and mumbles real quietly, “don’t need yer thanks.”

Coretta’s answering laugh is soft, “Still. Ya have it.”

His eyes are on her again as he nods a bit and puts his cigarette out. Coretta has the urge to run her hand through his hair but resists it, he ain’t a fan of being touched. She’d figured that out by spending months with him. More than once she’s seen him twitch away from contact. The only physical contact he seems okay with is what he initiates. 

“What’re ya lookin’ at, woman?” He sounds annoyed that she’s looking him over in silence. 

She hums, “Lookin’ at ya. And thinkin’ things.”

“Gonna say what yer thinkin’?”

“Just that yer a good man. For all ya like ta huff an’ puff, ya ain’t the big bad wolf,” She grins at the way he eyes her. 

“Ya been drinkin’ that fuckin’ shine again?”

“Concussed, remember? Hershel made it damn clear no moonshine for awhile,” Coretta laughs.

“Maybe ya shouldn’t be sayin’ shit when yer brain’s all scrambled,” He suggests roughly. 

“Gonna anyway. Don’t think ya hear it enough,” Coretta spins the cuff around her wrist idly. 

“Ya think a lot,” He says it but he doesn’t sound like he’s bothered by it. 

“Not much else ta do these days,” Coretta shrugs, “Woulda ya bite my hand off if I played with yer hair?”

He squints at her in the darkness, “Ain’t ya always try ta cut it?”

“Nah, I gave that shit up. ‘Sides, it don’t look bad. So, can I?” Coretta ain’t sure why she’s feeling so bold about this, but he ain’t told her to go fuck herself, so she figures he ain’t that bothered. 

He’s silent for a moment, then shrugs one shoulder, “If ya quit yer chatterin’.”

Coretta is genuinely surprised he agreed. Figured he’d say no. She don’t give him a chance to take it back though. Just scrambles over to sit beside him on her knees. After a moment of hesitation, she runs her fingers lightly through his hair. It definitely needs a good wash, but it’s surprisingly soft despite that. For the first few seconds he’s tense, before she starts massaging his scalp the way she learned to do before shit royally hit the fan. 

Man practically melts when she does. She don’t talk the whole time, like he asked, and he ain’t sharpening his knife anymore. Just sits there with his head tilted back a little as she works. The way he’s acting, she’d think no one had ever done this shit for him before. She ain’t sure though, he don’t talk ‘bout his past at all and she ain’t never felt comfortable pushing for details it’s clear he don’t wanna share. 

It’s a comfortable silence and Coretta lets herself just focus on what she’s doing instead of everything else going on in the world. She hums to herself softly as she works circles on his scalp. Coretta isn’t expecting it when he shifts a bit and one strong arm wraps around her waist to pull her in front of him. She squeaks a bit at the sudden movement before large hands are working firm circles over her shoulders and back. 

It makes her tense up hard for a second, she don’t generally like people touching her anywhere she keeps covered by clothes, it’s why she always wears long sleeves if she can help it. A force of habit from her childhood. Still, feeling the knots get worked out of her muscles feels good despite the pain of it. She forces herself to relax. Daryl ain’t trying to hurt her. He’s just returning the favor. Ain’t no reason for her to fuckin’ get weird about it. 

Then he gets a really hard knot out and she makes a quiet noise of relief and his hands freeze on her back. Coretta opens her mouth to apologize, but his hands are already digging into her back again as if she didn’t make the sound at all. She gets the feeling he’s trying to make her make that noise again if the way he’s working a bit harder at the many fuckin’ knots in her back is any indication. He finds another huge knot and once again Coretta can’t help the soft noise she makes. He doesn’t pause this time, just keeps at it until the knot is worked away. It goes on this way until her muscles feel a bit like jelly and she really doesn’t want to move. 

Daryl’s hands rest on either side of her spine for a moment longer before withdrawing and his voice is rougher than usual as he breaks the silence, “Should get some rest, got a lot of work ta do tomorrow.”

Coretta knows a dismal when she hears one and forces herself to get up, “Sleep well, Dixon.”

He makes an unintelligible noise back as she walks to her cell, pausing to check on her sons again. She has to shove Red down her bed for space. After that massage and the high stress of the day, Coretta just wants to flop down and not move for awhile. She’ll risk sleeping with a possible fuckin’ concussion. She’s too tired and relaxed to fuckin’ care.


	45. Chapter 45

There’s less walkers at the fence than usual since Jesse’s bomb went off. The noise had called ‘em all off for awhile. Coretta knows it’s temporary, but it’s still nice to only see a few trying to get through the prison fence. She’s up in the watchtower for her shift and bored out of her mind. Only an hour left before Glenn takes over though. She passes the time by watching Rick, Michonne, and a handful of others work on making some kind of spike things around the gate entrance to keep Walkers away. It’s going to take days for that to be done, but Coretta can recognize the necessity. 

Daryl and Jesse have gone off to go see if Woodbury is overrun or not. Apparently, Daryl wants to look for survivors and Rick wants to know if Andrea is alive. Coretta thinks Jesse just wants to see the aftermath of his little explosion, but she ain’t gonna mention that. She knows that would start some shit and her head still hurts a bit too much for her to want to deal with that shit. Coretta ain’t sure what they’re gonna find in Woodbury, but she hopes at the very least, the Governor’s corpse will be up and walking around. Would make life much simpler. 

Coretta’s eyes move back towards the tree line. Occasionally a walker will stagger out, but she don’t have to do much. The team outside building the defenses handles it quickly enough. She’s bored out of her mind and wants something else to do. Watch is always boring unless something has gone monumentally wrong. Supposed to be boring, as much as she hates it, boring means a good shift. 

By the time Glenn comes to relieve her from watch, Coretta’s practically bouncing off the walls with the strength of her desire to find something else to do. It’s obvious enough that Glenn is laughing at her as she practically launches herself down the ladder to freedom. He calls down to her as she hits the ground, “Hey! I’m planning a run in a day or two, wanna come?”

Coretta blinks up at him, she doesn’t go on runs often. She grins though at the opportunity to be of use, “Sure thing, anything we’re lookin’ for?”

“Food, medicine, ammo, more formula, the usual,” He answers as he checks over the gun they keep in the watch tower at all times. 

Coretta nods and gives him a thumbs up as she heads back to the cellblock to check her sons before finding other things to do. Beth has the baby in her arms and Keston is sounding out words from one of the children’s books he has for her. Mason is harder to find. She ends up finding him pestering Merle in what looks like some kinda workshop thing. 

“Why ya got a knife arm?” Her son sounds determined to get answers as she pauses a little ways away and listens. 

“‘Cause I ain’t got a hand, kid, It’s damn useful,” Merle sounds like he can’t decide if he’s annoyed with her son or not. 

“Ya ever stab yerself with it? I messed up once an’ had ta get stitches ‘cause I cut myself with a knife an’ it weren’t even stuck ta my arm,” Mason tells the man matter-of-factly. 

“I look like an idiot ta ya? ‘Course I ain’t stab myself,” Merle definitely sounds like he has no idea how to react to her son’s attention. 

“Momma says everyone’s an idiot. So yer probably one too,” Mason retorts. 

“Boy, ain’t anyone ever teach ta silence is golden? Yer mouth gonna get yer hide tanned,” Merle snaps. 

“Ain’t scared. Only Momma does that. She don’t like people doin’ it for her,” Mason says it like he don’t mind gambling on her tanning his hide. Which she knows is bullshit. 

“Where is yer pretty momma? Shouldn’t ya be clingin’ ta her skirt instead of botherin’ me?” Merle about jumps on the chance to get Mason to leave. 

“Dunno. She’ll find me. How’d ya lose yer hand?” Mason sounds fascinated by Merle’s hand. 

Coretta decides to step forward at that and call out, “Mason, leave him alone. Ain’t yer business how a man’s lost a hand.”

Mason grins a shit eating grin at the older man, “Told ya she’d find me.”

Merle is digging through a box of random parts and gives her son an irritated look, “Good, now get outta my hair.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “Ya heard the man, baby, lets go.”

Mason comes trotting over, “Where we goin’?”

“Gonna find Miss Carol, see if she needs any help with anything. Maybe ya can play with Sophia and Carl.”

“When ya gonna take me huntin’?” Mason has been desperate to get out of the prison and hunt with her. 

“Soon, gotta make sure things are safe first,” Coretta answers easily as she leads him back to the cellblock. 

“Daryl gonna come?”

“Thought ya ain’t like Daryl no more,” Coretta drawls. 

“Yeah, but he hunts with ya, Momma,” Mason sounds like he doesn’t like that one bit. 

“True enough,” Coretta concedes as they search for Carol. 

“Ya still his friend?”

“Sure am, why?” She smiles at Beth as they walk by. The sweet girl gives her a happy wave back. 

“He left, didn’t even say bye,” Mason sounds irritated. 

“To be with his brother. If it were ya an’ Keston, y’all’d’ve done the same thing. He came back, remember?” Coretta points out. 

Mason scowls at the ground, “Still left. Like Daddy used ta do when he were mad.”

“And he always came back, didn’t he?” Coretta doesn’t like that her son remembers the times Wade had stormed out after a fight. It’d only happened a handful of times, and only once or twice while Mason was home from school, but still. 

“But it made ya cry. Did Daryl make ya cry too?”

“No, baby, Daryl didn’t make me cry,” Coretta tells him. 

“Good,” Mason sounds extremely satisfied that Daryl hadn’t done that. 

Coretta finds Carol doing inventory of the food stocks and greets her lazily, “Hey, need help with anythin’?”

“No, just running through rations. We’re low. Maybe enough for a week, two if we really stretch it,” Carol sounds concerned as she answers. 

“Mason, go play with Sophia and Carl,” Coretta ushers her son off before turning to Carol, “There’s a supply run soon. Could go huntin’ too. What are we short on?”

“What aren’t we short on is the better question. Canned green beans and those MRE meals are about all we’ll have if we don’t get more soon,” Carol shakes her head and sighs, “This Woodbury business hasn’t been easy on our supplies. Runs have been too risky to go on and hunting isn’t much better. Are you going on the next run? Glenn mentioned he was going to see if you could.”

“Yeah, I am. Need me ta look for anythin’?” Coretta offers as she takes in their meager food stores. 

“Honestly? Anything edible at this point. We can’t afford to be picky right now,” Carol purses her lips as she works on planning rations out, “Maybe we can raid Woodbury if it’s been overrun.”

“Guess we’ll see when Daryl and Jesse get back,” Coretta sighs and stops eyeing how little food they have. Fourteen people eat a lot, “Could always eat the dogs, worst come ta worst.”

Carol gives her a look, “We aren’t eating the dogs. Keep making that joke and you’re going to start worrying people.”

Coretta grins, “Only a joke until we ain’t had food for a week. Then roasted dog is gonna start soundin’ real good.”

“Coretta, stop,” Carol laughs at her. 

“I think I’m funny,” Coretta shrugs carelessly. 

“I’m sure you do. Gonna upset the children with your jokes though. They love those dogs,” Carol points out. 

“Daryl would be more pissed, he hates the dog eatin’ jokes,” She sets to work washing dishes. 

“All the more reason not to joke like that,” Carol comments lightly, “Heard you talking to him the other night.”

“Rude ta eavesdrop,” Coretta murmurs as she rolls her sleeves up just enough to keep them dry, she figures Carol won’t comment if she sees the faded cigarette burns covering her forearms. Woman is discreet like that. 

“Oh, I didn’t hear much, you’re pretty quiet when you want to be. Did hear you say he was a good man,” Carol gives her a goodnatured look that tells her the woman wants details.

“‘Cause he is,” Coretta focuses on the dish she’s scrubbing clean. 

“You spend a lot of time with him,” Carol continues lightly. 

“Yeah?” Coretta don’t like the strange tone in Carol’s voice. Like she’s getting at something and is tickled pink about it. 

“He’s friendliest to you, you know,” Carol says it like it means something. 

“Ain’t sure I’d call it friendly,” She points out warily. 

“I would. He doesn’t bite your head off and he responds to most of what you say to him. Not everyone gets that,” Carol is definitely trying to get to something. 

“Yer point?” Coretta figures biting the bullet is the best course of action. 

“Just wondering if it’s mutual, is all,” Carol gives her a small, mischievous smile. 

“If what’s mutual?” Coretta should have found someone else to help out. Clearly Carol is out of her fuckin’ mind. 

“Well, he gave you that bracelet. Just wondering if you like him too,” Carol sounds like she’s having a great time putting Coretta on the spot. 

“Like him? What is this? Middle school?” Coretta shoots the woman a weak glare. 

“No need to be defensive, it’s okay to be interested in someone other than your husband, you know. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy,” Carol gives her a kind look. 

Coretta just scrubs harder on a new dish, “Dunno what yer gettin’ at.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol sing songs lightly as she keeps scribbling away on her rations sheet. 

“Ma’am, ya need yer head checked. Yer outta yer mind, he ain’t in ta me, we’re just friends, s’all,” Coretta wants to sink into the floor. 

“You aren’t denying that you’re into him,” Carol points out immediately, “You know, you’d be good together. And he’s good with the boys.”

Coretta is never going to be alone with Carol again. The woman is clearly the devil. This is fuckin’ proof. She just scrubs harder, “Ain’t ya got better things ta do than look for gossip?”

“Not really. When no one could find you and your brother, Daryl about had a fit, you know. Then Merle disappeared and I swear the man’s head was going to explode,” Carol says it like she’s talking about the weather. 

“I ain’t surprised, man chewed my ass out over it,” Coretta wrinkles her nose at the memory. 

“He was scared, I think. That he was going to lose his brother and you all at once,” Carol tells her gently. 

Coretta doesn’t respond to that. Don’t know how to. So she just focuses on washing dishes.Carol gets the message, she supposes, and doesn’t say anything else. Coretta appreciates that about the woman. She knows when to stop pushing things. Knows when she’s made whatever point she wants to make and doesn’t feel the need to keep going. Coretta likes that about the older woman. Even if she pokes around for gossip sometimes. Ain’t like there’s much else to do. 


	46. Chapter 46

Jesse and Daryl come back grim faced. They explain shortly that Woodbury is overrun, but it looked like they managed to evacuate based on the fact that, according to Jesse, the buses they had were gone and so where a lot of the rations the place had. Whether that means Woodbury is abandoned entirely or only until its inhabitants regroup and get their shit together, they don’t know. It puts everyone on edge not knowing. 

They didn’t find the Governor either. They don’t know if Jesse’s bomb blew him up, if the walkers got him, or if he got out safely. They have no way to know. Can’t track a bus on an asphalt road after all. For now, constant watch and periodically checking Woodbury will have to do. Doesn’t mean they aren’t going to strip the empty town of everything they can while they wait and see what happens. 

As for Andrea, Daryl’s voice is grim when he announces they found her. As a walker. Locked up in the same room Glenn had been tortured in. They’d put her down and brought the body back in a car they’d found. There’s a very brief discussion over what to do that ends in the solemn decision to bury her with the rest of their people. The funeral is quick and Coretta pays more attention to the fence and the few walkers gathered around it than the eulogy. She’s never liked funerals. Would prefer not to attend them if she could avoid it. At this point, she’s not even sure there’s a reason for funerals. Death happens so often nowadays. She thinks funerals probably lose their meaning when they happen constantly. They definitely lose their fuckin’ importance. Used to be a whole thing. Now it’s just dig a fuckin’ hole, drop a body in, say a word or two and move the fuck on. Coretta don’t think anyone in the group even cries at fuckin’ funerals anymore. Hell, she can’t even remember the last time a funeral really felt like anything other than a waste of time better spent trying to fuckin’ survive. 

As it is, the group returns to fortifying the prison, preparing for the next run and just trying to live a little longer. Coretta ends up helping try to figure out the security breach of a hole in the administration building. It’s a massive fucking hole. They don’t have the materials to fix it in a way that matters. Sheet metal might work. Wood won’t hold against too big a herd. Or people who really want in. They need to find scrap sheet metal. Thank god that ain’t hard to find in the apocalypse. There’s plenty of shit like that left lying around these days. Won’t be enough to patch it all the way up to the top, but they can build it high enough that people won’t be able climb it. It’s going to take time. 

They want to build a place to keep watch there too. More places to have eyes, the more secure their home is. It’s a simple as that. Turn a security problem into an asset. Coretta ain’t sure it’ll work, ain’t sure they’ll ever have the people to man more it and the gate and the watchtower and keep doing everything else, but it’s a hopeful thing almost. Like one day there will be the people for it. Coretta can appreciate that about it, aside from the practicality of the thing. Jesse has taken over the planning pretty fuckin’ quickly. Man had worked construction on and off when he was sober. Had been damn good at it when he weren’t methed out. Shame it took the apocalypse to keep him that way. 

They stick to the planning for now, they’ll need materials before they can actually do anything. For now, they settle for locking all the gates and doors between there and the parts of the prison they’re utilizing. No reason to make it easy for anyone they don’t want around dropping in for a visit. As it is, they need people too. There’s power in numbers. More people means better chances even if it means they need more resources. More people is more hands to build this place. More eyes to guard it. Coretta ain’t a fan of people, but she knows what a valuable commodity is. Knows the value of being able to throw bodies at a problem. She ain’t gonna be on the welcoming committee when they start bringing new people in, but she ain’t gonna be giving them the cold shoulder either. Ain’t no use in that. 

Daryl wants to keep hunting for the Governor and his people. So does Michonne. And since Daryl is gonna be hunting for the psycho, Merle is on the witch hunt too. Coretta ain’t interested in it. So long as the fucker ain’t bothering them no more, she don’t give a shit where the man is. He just needs to stay gone. 

Rick and Hershel are planning to start a whole fuckin’ farm once the defenses are finished. Coretta figures that means they’ll be hitting up a fuckin’ home improvement store for some fuckin’ seeds or some shit on the next run. Gonna need a whole fuckin’ shit load of the damn things. Coretta don’t know fuck all about growing shit either. So she ain’t sure what shit would even fuckin’ grow, much less feed people. She really don’t wanna get stuck on farming detail. She’ll leave that shit to the Greene’s and Rick. 

Coretta ends up back on babysitter duty like she was on the farm when she’s not hunting. Which means when Beth is busy, Coretta is in charge of the baby too. Sophia, Keston, and the baby. Since Carl and Mason are able to help with some of more basic things, like killing walkers at the fence or helping open and close the gates. Sophia has started helping too. Mostly chores like laundry and cooking while her skills with the weaponry is worked on. Coretta has to adjust to having a baby in her arms again while she keeps one eye on Keston and the dogs and another on their surroundings. She takes to it easily enough. Ain’t like she hasn’t had two babies of her own. Carrying the tiny thing around in a makeshift sling she made outta an old bedsheet makes it easier. Keeps her hands free in case she needs to do something. She’d had one, a real one, before, when Keston was a baby. Made it easy to keep up with Mason while caring for baby Keston. Makes it easy to keep up with Keston and Sophia while taking care of Judith now. 

More than once, she ends up singing softly to the baby as she cares for her. The same thing she does for her boys. The thing she only does for her boys. She ignores the way everyone clearly knows she’s getting attached to the baby, something she’d been avoiding since it’s birth, if she were honest. Not because she don’t like the kid, but ‘cause she don’t have the energy to worry about her and her boys and everything else. Babysitting her has essentially ruined that fuckin’ situation. Coretta has cared for her for a minimal amount of time, but she’d probably have a fuckin’ meltdown if this kid dies. She blames the fact she misses when her boys were this small entirely for this shit. 

Glenn calling her out to the courtyard to get ready for their run is a godsend. She don’t even care where the run is to. She just wants to go to work and feel useful. Watching the kids is wonderful and she loves spending time with her sons, but the walkers from Woodbury are crawling all over the fuckin’ woods now and she can’t hunt alone, according to the fuckin’ group. This is the most productive fuckin’ thing she can do right now. Glenn, Maggie, Coretta. A small group, but she figures it’s better that way. Less people on a run, less people to worry about. Even if it means less eyes to keep an eye out for trouble. 


	47. Chapter 47

There’s a shopping center, ten miles south that Glenn thinks ain’t been hit yet. Got one of those home improvement stores and a Walmart nearby with a couple smaller stores they might be able to hit. If things go well and they work fast anyway. Coretta is quiet most of the drive, it’s a bit awkward third wheeling a run with the couple who has sex fuckin’ every chance they get anywhere they can and sure as shit ain’t discreet about it. It’d be amusing if the watchtower didn’t smell like sex now. She’s gonna find a bottle of fuckin’ air freshener or something for that shit. 

Glenn makes the decision they’ll start with Walmart. Food, medicines, soap, clothes, things they need more than building supplies and seeds. He wants those first in case they need to bug out. The parking lot is full of abandoned cars and bodies that have been reduced to little more that mummified husks and bones littering the ground. Coretta can see a handful of Walkers ambling along between the cars, not many, but enough to put her on alert. The stores are going to have more, she’d bet the fuckin’ compound bow on it. 

As it is, they plan to go in through the back, where the stored inventory is, and work their way through the Walmart. Clear the building as they go. But first, set a car alarm off at the very back of the fuckin’ parking lot to ideally draw at least some walkers out of the buildings and away from what they need. Coretta gets the dubious honor of the drive-by alarm triggering. 

Glenn drives the van real slow down the parking lot lanes to the back and circles around. He wants to get her as close to the chosen car as possible. Wants to minimize the risk factor that’s inherently involved in runs as best he can. It’s part of why Glenn is in charge of most runs. He’s good at them and he’s good at bringing everyone back from them. No one else is as good at making successful runs as he is. 

Coretta eyes the filthy, bright blue sedan carefully as they slow to a crawl about fifteen feet from it. She doubts it’s the kind with a good alarm. Probably one of those stupid beeping alarms instead of the good headache inducing kind. She don’t have a rock to break the fucking window with so she gets to crawl under the fuckin’ car like she’s stealing it and fiddle with wires and shit until it goes off. She ain’t exactly thrilled by this plan, but it needs doing. 

Glenn and Maggie are tense in the front seats as they keep eyes on the walkers ambling around a good distance away. None of them have grown interested in their van yet. Coretta counts out four on the other side of the sedan, far enough away she can make it to the sedan, close enough that she’s gonna be trying to beat the fuckin’ clock once she gets out of the van. Coretta has her handgun and her knife ready, her bow and quiver will stay in the van for this part. Makes getting around easier. As much as she don’t like it. 

“Alright, get in, get out, you ready?” Maggie’s voice is tight as her eyes scan the area. 

“Ready when y’all are. Don’t leave me behind,” Coretta keeps her voice light and joking even as her hand grips the door handle and her whole body goes tense in anticipation. 

“Now,” Glenn calls it out sharply, an order that she ain’t dumb enough to disobey. 

She don’t let herself think further. Don’t let herself second guess. Just flings herself outta the damn van and hauls absolute fuckin’ ass to that sedan. She focuses on her breathing, her feet hitting asphalt, her muscles working, instead of the mild, instinctive fear she feels knowing she’s out in the open with Walkers nearby. She hisses in pain when she flings herself under the sedan and her knees scrap painfully against the ground. She can feel the denim over her right knee tear and knows she’s gonna be sporting a nasty scrape on her knee after this. She don’t worry about that though. 

Just works faster than she ever has to hot wire a car and do it badly. She ain’t tryin’ to steal it. Just needs to set the alarm off and quick. Wade would be raising fuckin’ Cain if he knew she were hot wiring a car with the intention of setting the alarm off. He’d be fuckin’ appalled. But he ain’t here and it’s the end of the world and she needs this done. It don’t take long before the alarm is going off. Not as pathetic as she expected, but it ain’t quite the ear piercing noise she likes. It don’t matter. Time to bug the fuck out. 

She scrambles out from under the car and pauses long enough to confirm the Walkers in the parking lot and the buildings have noticed the commotion. They have. There’s a lot fuckin’ more than she thought. She’s running again before she can fuckin’ think. Maggie and Glenn are both yelling at her to hurry up. She don’t need to be told twice as she spots a pair of Walkers out of the corner of her eye that are too damn close for comfort. 

Coretta ain’t much of a sprinter. Better at long, slow runs than hauling ass, but she’s hauling ass now. She practically slams face first into the door of the van as she reaches it in her haste to get the fuck inside. Glenn is gunning it before her door is even closed and she just has to lay in the fuckin’ backseat and try to slow the pounding of her fuckin’ heart for a second. There’s more adrenaline that is probably healthy running through her, even though that went off without a hitch. Kinda feels like she snorted coke or some shit. 

“Hey! Hey, you good? You’re bleedin’,” Maggie has turned around to look at her and is eyeing her bleeding knee with worry. 

Coretta raises one hand and gives her a thumbs up, “Ain’t bit, scraped knee is all.”

Glenn laughs like a maniac, she thinks he genuinely likes runs on some level, not that she’ll point that one out, “That was perfect, should draw them all out there.”

“Hell yeah,” Coretta raises her leg up to get a good look at her knee. No wonder Maggie seemed worried. It’s easily the nastiest scraped knee she’s ever had. Looks deep as fuck for what it is. Bleeding heavy too. Well, shit, if she ends up needing stitches for a fuckin’ scraped knee she’s gonna be fuckin’ embarrassed. Jesse gonna give her so much damn shit for it. 

Glenn slows down as they pull around to the back of the Walmart by the unloading docks. Coretta ignores the stinging of her knee and throws her quiver over her shoulder and grabs her bow as she waits for Glenn to give the go ahead to move in. There’s one or two Walkers lingering back here that look like they’re trying to follow the siren. They’re just too fuckin’ stupid to know how. It’s kinda funny in an absurd, morbid way, watching them bump into the wall of the building. 

Glenn takes lead as they go in the building, staying silent and hypersensitive to any noise as they go. Coretta has an arrow nocked to her bow as they move through the back rooms. There’s more back here than she expected as they start to cut open boxes and plastic wrapped stacks of shit. Guess the general public forgot there’s a storage area in these kinda stores. Finding shit is easy, finding what they need it harder. The back room is a bit confusing and it takes a time to cut open boxes and the forklift ain’t working so they can’t reach the ones on the higher up shelves anyway. So they hunt through what they can reach. Coretta finds a cart just outside of the door to the actual store and drags it inside the back. It fills up quick with random shit they needed. Some toilet paper, some paper towels, Maggie finds some batteries, Glenn finds canned corn and what looks like instant pancake mix and drops those in. Coretta grins like a loon when she finds a whole shit ton of tampons. The women have been running low on these and since she ran outta her birth control and they ain’t starving anymore, Coretta ain’t an exception to that particular issue anymore. She never thought the sight of fuckin’ tampons would give her so much fuckin’ joy. She ends up calling Maggie over to help her load as many of the boxes in as they can. Girl seems just as thrilled by the find as Coretta and they’re practically skipping as they take those to the cart. 

They need medicine too though. And that’s in the fuckin’ pharmacy. At the front of the damn store. So once Glenn is satisfied with their haul so far, and they throw it all in the van, they make for the front. Weapons ready and walking slow the whole way. Maggie has the cart, Incase they hit another jackpot, and Coretta is damn pleased it’s one of the only good ones these damn places ever seem to have. Ain’t a single squeaky wheel. She ain’t sure why her luck is better in the fuckin’ apocalypse than it was before, but she ain’t complaining. So long as the damn cart stays good, she’s gonna be fuckin’ happy. 

They pause in the clothing and shoes sections, throwing things in with little care as to the look or sizes. Someone in the fuckin’ prison will be able to wear ‘em, and the clothes no one fits in can be cut up for rags and curtains and bandages and shit. They’ve gotten creative with resources. Ain’t nothing worthless in the apocalypse. The shoes are more of a gamble, less to be repurposed for if they don’t fit anybody, but still, better take ‘em and not need ‘em than need ‘em and not take ‘em. That’s basically their motto on runs. 

They slow when they get to the front, there’s twenty or so walkers trying to force themselves out the closed, no longer working, automatic doors. The smell and noise is hair raising after so many near death experiences involving the nasty fuckers. Gets the blood flowing a little faster than normal as they do their best to quietly sneak past without attracting their attention. It works. Kinda. The smell ofCoretta’s still steadily bleeding knee draws their attention. Coretta makes a split second decision and splits from her people as the walkers turn at the smell of fresh blood. Damn things move slow and as much as her knee hurts, she can keep outta their reach. Glenn hisses as her not to, but it’s the best plan she has and she just hisses back angrily to go find medicine and she’ll meet them at the fuckin’ van. 

As it is, she starts whistling at the Walkers and making sure they see her movements as her friends curse and go on without her. They trust her to not get herself killed and she trusts them to find what they need. Ain’t their fault she has the mother of all skinned knees right now. Coretta swallows her instinctive need to bolt and waits until the walkers are within a few feet of her before turning and jogging back, pausing and turning to let them catch up again. They’re all riled up as they chase her through the nasty smelling food section that’s full of empty shelves and rotten meats. Coretta forces herself to jog instead of sprint. Keeps herself just out of their reach even as the fuckers start shuffling a little faster. 

It ain’t a good time, but she has to let Maggie and Glenn make it back to the van first. She ain’t about to block their exit with a herd of fuckin’ walkers. That’d be a fuckin’ dick move. So she focuses on her breathing and her legs moving and the feel of her feet hitting earth as she gets the herd to follow her in a nice little circuit around the fuckin’ building. Her knee hurts like a bitch and it’s sending shocks of pain up her leg every time she bends it and her poor, cigarette abused lungs are burning, but she keeps going until she hears Maggie call her name from the entrance to the storage area. 

Coretta don’t need to head another thing. Just stretches her legs out and takes off running for where her people are. Glenn and Maggie are standing there like they’re at the finish line of a fuckin’ race or some shit, that damn cart a bit behind them. Coretta is panting when she crosses whatever invisible finish line they have and don’t stop running. Glenn and Maggie take off too, cart being shoved along by Glenn like it’s filled with priceless treasures instead of rags and a few bottles of aspirin. They load the damn van faster than Coretta can catch her breath and Glenn is gunning it again before her or Maggie is ready. Coretta needs to cut the fuckin’ cigarettes back, she feels like she’s damn near suffocating as she tries to catch her breath after that mess. 

The fuckin’ Home Depot is next. Coretta narrows her eyes as they pull up to the side of the building they think will have the seeds Rick and Hershel want. Hershel has made a list of seeds and supplies, thank the fuckin’ lord, and Maggie knows about all that farming shit being Hershel’s girl and all. Coretta considers that a fuckin’ godsend, ‘cause aside from the obvious seeds, she don’t know what she’s looking for. She ain’t never bothered trying gardening. Wade had put his foot down the one time she suggested it, said buying flowers and shit to make their shitty little yard pretty was a bigger waste of money than her baking attempts. Coretta hadn’t cared enough about it to push back on his decision. Hadn’t thought it worth the argument. If she’d known the world was gonna go to hell and she was gonna be living in a prison with a sheriff that wanted to farm, maybe she’d‘ve argued back. 

This one is easier than Walmart. Less people had thought looting a Home Depot was smarter than looting a Walmart. She don’t have to split from her people and take Walkers on a merry fuckin’ chase this time. Maggie handles the seed packets while she and Glenn go looking for building supplies. Coretta grabs boxes and boxes of nails and drops them all in a shitty kids backpack she found in Walmart. Glenn appears with planks of wood balanced precariously on his shoulder. Coretta has to duck a little to avoid another concussion with the way he swings those damn things around every time he changes direction. She ain’t sure how they’re getting that back to the prison. Probably gonna have to strap those to the roof of the van. Maggie is grinning when she shows them the packets of seeds she found. Now they just need those bags of fertilizer. Coretta ain’t gonna let Jesse near that shit. Rick said no more bombs. That shit is flammable enough that she fears for the prison if Jesse has access to it when he’s pissed. Especially if him and Merle find meth in any of the fuckin’ mattresses. She knows they’ve been hunting. Pair of dumb fuck addicts that they are. 

They get their loot shoved into the van before going to get the fertilizer. As many bags as they can fit is the official order from Hershel. Glenn thinks they can tie six to the roof and shove two more bags into the back of the van. Coretta takes his word for it. Worst comes to worst, they gotta leave a bag or two behind. Coretta’s knee stings but it ain’t bleeding anymore as she grabs one of the fertilizer bags they find and grunts under its weight. She has to put her bow on top of the bag to carry everything. Gonna take more than one trip to get all the bags Glenn wants and every second added is another second them walkers could get bored with the damn car alarm she set off. She ain’t much interested in hauling ass again. She’s still trying to fuckin’ recover from the Walmart experience. If she gotta run with a bag of fertilizer in her arms, she may just lay down and let the damn walkers take her. Save her the pointless effort of running that way. They get lucky again, no Walkers come their way and they leave with seven of the eight bags of fertilizer Glenn had wanted. 

It’s one of the best runs they’d ever had. Definitely in the top three for the sheer amount of shit they found. And no one died. Coretta don’t even mind the fact her knee looks like someone took a damn cheese grater to it then stabbed her with a dull knife in the middle of the mess. They got everything on their list and then some and they didn’t even have to waste bullets. If only Glenn didn’t feel the need to lecture her on safety and recklessness on the drive home because she took a herd of walkers on a walk in fuckin’ Wally-world. Coretta just grins lazily and reminds him she ain’t dead so clearly it works and very politely asks him not to mention it to anyone and she won’t let Jesse near the fertilizer. It’s a fair trade, she thinks. She don’t need anymore lectures and no one needs Jesse getting his hands on fertilizer.A fair deal and a good run. Coretta is fuckin’ content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was wine drunk writing this, I am sorry for any mistakes or typos due to my inebriation!


	48. Chapter 48

It’s a week after the run that Coretta starts contemplating the benefits of being an only child. For one single reason: Jesse found cocaine and left it by her bunk with a little scrawled note saying, _enjoy._ Coretta fuckin’ hates her brother sometimes. She really does. He knows what her drug of choice was as a teenager. When she didn’t care about anything but partying and making sure Hunter didn’t get beat by their daddy because she wasn’t there to take it in his place. Even though Jesse blew in and outta town like a summer thunderstorm once he turned eighteen and took off, he knew shit like that. 

The fact that now, years later, when it’s the end of the world and she’s got two young children to look after, he’s gifting her mattress-found cocaine? Well, it makes her want to beat him with a fuckin’ tire iron. She ain’t touched the stuff since she learned she was carrying Mason in her belly. One of the hardest fuckin’ things she’s ever done and he’s just presented her an opportunity to throw about nine, nearly ten, years of being coke-free out the fuckin’ window. She’s gonna murder her brother in front of God and everyone. 

She ain’t stupid. She knows she’s addicted. Knows addiction ain’t something that goes away just ‘cause someone makes the effort to stop indulging the addiction. Ain’t something that goes away just ‘cause she ain’t touched it in years. She’s gotten good at ignoring her cravings for the shit. Cutting herself off from her dealers and the people that used the shit with her had helped before. Wade had never liked her doing the shit and that had helped too. Now, two kids and the end of the world is a damn good distraction when she wants the shit. She ain’t proud of the fact she’s missed the stuff. Ain’t even sure why she likes it. It just numbs her face and makes her nose burn and makes her talk fast, and it’s a short fuckin’ high, but she does like it. It makes her chatty and friendly, but it makes her volatile as fuck too. She remembers how it was. She knows how she fuckin’ is. 

She knows she don’t _really_ want to take the fuckin’ shit, but it’s in a nice little baggie just waiting to be used and her boys are downstairs working on improving their math skills with Carol last she checked and Coretta can’t stop staring at the fuckin’ bag of white powder. She don’t want it, but she don’t wanna get _rid_ of it either. Coretta ain’t sure what to do other than possibly murder her brother. This is the kinda shit that makes her want to throw things at him. The kinda shit that nearly made her call the cops on him once when Mason was two. 

She could find a piece of paper or a dollar somewhere. Roll it up into a nice little straw. Find herself a mirror or something similar to pour it out on. She could use her knife or something to make lines with. Could just take a bump too. Hell, she could just rub it on her gums. She could do any of that before anyone was the wiser. She fuckin’ knows she could. A nice little thirty minute high and the lazy, relaxed feeling she gets when it ends. She misses that shit. She could do it and no one but her would know. 

Meth is Jesse’s drug of choice, Coke is hers. Hunter had been the only one of them who wouldn’t touch anything stronger than weed. The good Claire kid. The one with an actual future. If Daddy hadn’t killed him, that is. Coretta had pulled her shit together for Mason, then kept it together for him and Keston. The fact she’s damn near itching to take a line of coke now that she _can_ is driving her mad. She don’t want to ruin almost a decade of not touching the shit. 

Cigs and alcohol have been all she’s had in years, but Jesse is an ass at worst, probably thought he was being nice at best, and now she’s got a not insignificant-sized bag on coke in her hands. Nearly two grams of the shit if she had to guess. She ain’t sure where exactly he found it, but it’s in her hands and she can’t put it down. Coretta can’t stop thinking about how fuckin’ badly she wants just one line, one bump, one fuckin’ gummy of the shit. She’s fighting a battle she ain’t sure she’s winning as she turns the bag over in her hands over and over. 

Coretta paces the short length of her cell, coke in her hands as she runs through every reason she has not to do it. It’s only Rick calling her name from downstairs that’s enough to make her toss the bag in her box of alcohol and cigarettes and walk out without taking it. She forces herself to focus on what’s happening instead. 

Forces herself to listen as Rick tells her Mason and Carl thought clearing the damn library by themselves was a good idea. Listens and glares down at her son as he stares at the ground and shuffles his feet. Ignores Carl arguing with Rick over it. Ignores Merle and Jesse making comments and the way everyone else is trying to tell her son how he fucked up as her silence stretches on. Keston is watching her from where he’s standing by Beth and the baby and his eyes are all big and shit and she knows her anger is showing on her face. 

She manages to ground out, quieter than she normally does, “Yer cell, now.”

“Momma—“ mason tries to speak. 

_“Now.”_ She ain’t in the mood. She ain’t sure what the boy was thinking pulling that shit and she ain’t interested in whatever bullshit excuses he’s gonna come up with. 

She’s silent as she watches him slink up the stairs all slow like a beaten dog. Good. Boy should know better by now. He knows the rules and what is and isn’t allowed. This shit ain’t gonna fuckin’ work. Her eyes settle on Keston, “Well? Get up there too. Now.”

Keston jerks a little and glances around like someone is gonna intercede, but darts up the stairs after his brother when she cocks an eyebrow at him. Coretta lights a cigarette out of habit and takes a drag as the boys disappear into the cell. She’ll let Mason stew a moment. Keston ain’t in trouble, but he can learn from watching what happens when Mason pulls dumbass stunts. 

Jesse draws her attention as Rick drags Carl off to lecture somewhere, “Hope ya put the cig out before goin’ up there. Ya got a look on yer face I ain’t a fan of.”

Coretta knows exactly what he’s referring to and she don’t like it one bit, “My kids, Jesse, stay the fuck outta it.”

She ignores the wary glances everyone else sends her way as she starts searching the cellblock for spare rope. She’s got an idea. Since Mason wants to be running wild. She ain’t above using a damn leash on her kid if that’s what it takes to keep him from doing dumb shit. 

“Um, whatcha doin’ with the rope?” Jesse sounds like he’s not sure what to make of the sight of her walking by with a decent length of rope. 

“Hell ya think?” She gives him a nasty look as she heads up the stairs with the rope. Daryl looks like he wants to say something when she breezes past him but changes his mind. 

She puts the cigarette out before going into her kids’ cell. Mason is standing awkwardly by the bunks while Keston is crosslegged on his bunk with Molly-dog and Red. She purses her lips as she looks over her oldest son, “I wanna know why. Don’t ya dare lie.”

Mason looks like a deer in headlights for a second, all that anger and belligerence he uses around everyone else completely gone now that it’s just them. Those big blue eyes bounce between her and the rope before he starts talking fast, “Me an’ Carl just wanted ta help. Y’all ain’t been clearin’ lately ‘cause y’all gotta worry ‘bout the Governor guy and y’all keep talkin’ bout how it ain’t safe ‘til the whole prison’s clear an’ me and Carl knew we could do it.”

Coretta’s eyes narrow, “Y’all help by not gettin’ yerselves killed. By doin’ the chores we tell ya ta do. Ya help by watchin’ over yer lil’ brother. Ya ain’t helpin’ when ya run off like fools an’ try ta get bit.”

“We weren’t tryin’ ta get bit! Used ta let us help all the time! Used ta, I’d get ta hunt with ya or Daryl! And clear places! Gotta help with watch too! Now y’all don’t let us do anythin’!” Mason finds his voice and his anger and glares fiercely up at her. 

Coretta is unmoved by her son’s anger, “That was then, when we weren’t in the prison an’ we all had ta work if we wanted ta live. Y’all ain’t gotta do that no more. Ya wanna be helpful? Don’t do shit that’s gonna make us have ta dig child-sized graves. Both y’all come here.”

Keston looks like he’s trying to figure out how he got dragged into his brother’s mess as he hops off the bed and approaches her. Mason’s gaze is bouncing between her and the rope and Keston and she can see he’s connecting dots, “Momma, can’t ya just tan my hide?”

She’d be laughing if she weren’t so annoyed, “Seems ta me, ya ain’t bothered by that no more. ‘Sides, think the message’ll sink in better this way.”

Coretta loops the rope around Keston’s waist and makes sure it ain’t gonna chafe or nothing and it ain’t gonna come loose before tying the rest to Mason, “Yer one job has always been lookin’ out for yer brother. ‘Til I trust ya again, Yer gonna stick ta him like glue. I know ya ain’t gonna go chasing after Carl in ta dumb situations if ya got Keston with ya. Don’t ya dare try untying it, ya hear me?”

Mason looks mutinous, “But, Momma—“

“No, don’t wanna hear it. Keston, ya be sweet ta yer brother, don’t need ya givin’ him too hard a time,” She smiles a little at the little boy. 

Keston clearly doesn’t see how this could be a bad thing. He adores spending time with Mason and beams brightly at her, “I’ll be good!”

“I know ya will,” She turns her eyes back on Mason, “Y’all gonna be like this for a week. After that, if I think ya learned yer lesson, I’ll see ‘bout lettin’ ya help some with watch, alright? Ain’t wrong ta wanna help, is wrong ta do what ya did though.”

Mason glares, “Can’t ya just whoop me?”

“Sure can’t,” Coretta kisses both of them on the foreheads before stepping out of their cell to give them time to adjust to their new situation. 

She leans on the railing and lights another cigarette, sighing at the fact that’s the last on in this pack. She has to slow down if she wants them to last. She ain’t ‘bout to add cigs to list of shit she wants from runs. Not unless she’s going on the run herself. Ain’t a necessity, ain’t worth risking other people for. She blows out smoke and listens to the sound of her boys bickering in their cell. She takes an inhale as Daryl comes over to lean on the railing with her, “Ya tan his hide?”

She blows smoke out and grins, “Nah. Tied him ta Keston.”

That gets a raised eyebrow, “Why?”

“He ain’t gonna go doin’ dumb shit with Keston tied ta him,” Coretta explains easily, “If ya want a cig, yer free ta go get one outta my stash, y’know where it is.”

Daryl seems to consider it, “Might in a bit. Jesse looked like he thought ya were gonna string Mason up.”

“Jesse thinks I got Daddy’s temper. He worries one day I’mma beat ‘em,” Coretta shakes her head, “It’s why he ain’t ever had kids, too scared of turnin’ out like our old man ta risk it.”

“And ya weren’t?” Daryl drawls. 

“‘Course I was. This old bitch I worked for, Her name was Holly-Anne. She knew my family, ‘cause Daddy used ta drink at her bar ‘fore she banned him. Gave me a job workin’ the bar for her at nights. When I was pregnant with Mason, I had some kinda freak out over it on my break, this old bitch just told me ‘Girl, get yer shit together, fact yer so scared of turnin’ out like yer old man already means yer gonna be better’n him. All ya gotta do is not be the thing yer baby has ta survive.’ Swear I took ta that like God himself came down from heaven and said it himself.” Coretta can still remember that woman’s harsh voice telling her that while she cried back where the customers couldn’t see her. Just don’t be the thing her kids have to survive. She’d clung hard to that advice over the years. She likes to think she’s managed it so far. 

Daryl nods a little, “Sounds like she weren’t much for bullshit.”

“Nah, she weren’t the type ta put up with shit, but she looked out for me, ‘specially when I was pregnant. Kept me behind the bar then. Had someone else take drinks ta tables so I didn’t have ta worry ‘bout gettin’ pushed ‘round ‘cause it was a shady fuckin’ bar,” Coretta had enjoyed working there, even though the tips weren’t amazing and drunks hit on her almost nightly until her belly started showing. 

Daryl starts chewing his thumb, “Yer man was fine with ya workin’ at some shady bar when ya were knocked up?”

Coretta snorts, “Any money was good money. He didn’t care so long as ain’t nothin’ happened, and I’d sell his ‘shine there when he asked anyway, Holly-Ann didn’t give a damn. ‘Sides what was he gonna do? Make me quit? Cold day in hell when he coulda pulled that miracle outta his ass.”

“So ya were a bartender,” He sounds almost amused by the thought of her makin’ drinks. 

“From Thursday ta Saturday I was. Damn good at it too. Favorite drinks ta make were those fruity ass shots that’re all pretty colors and taste like candy. Only ever made those for dumb bitches that were there ‘cause their daddies’ told ‘em not ta go places like that,” Coretta takes another drag off her cigarette and exhales, watching the smoke twist lazily in the air. 

“Knew a couple girls like that. Always ended up in over their heads eventually,” Daryl drawls. 

“Ain’t shocked by that. How’s yer hunt for Governor Psycho goin’?” Coretta ain’t been keeping up with that mess as much as she should be. 

He scowls irritably at the change, and pushes off the railing, “Gonna grab a cig.”

Coretta blows smoke out and gestures lazily to her cell. Guess that’s his way of saying it ain’t going well. Coretta can hear him drag her box out from under her bed and remembers too late the bag of coke in it that she still ain’t sure what to do with. She can hear silence where she should, by now, hear the quiet sound of a lighter coming to life. Coretta watches him storm out of her cell a moment and by her without so much as a glance her way. Coretta ain’t sure why she feels like she should be explaining herself to the man. Ain’t like that situation Jesse so kindly made for her is his business. She don’t have to answer to the man. Still. She feels a bit like she should be. 


	49. Chapter 49

She holds onto the coke for three days. Doesn’t take it. Just sits and eyes it when she should be sleeping. Coretta ain’t sure if she wants to throw it out or take it all and the longer she’s got it the harder it is to find the strength to get rid of it. She would drink, but if she drinks, she knows she’ll take it. Won’t even hesitate. So her moonshine becomes as taboo for her as the coke is. Daryl still ain’t speaking to her and she ends up cornering Jesse when he’s checking her truck over to snarl at him for giving her the coke. 

“Why’d ya have ta gimme that shit?” Coretta hisses lowly at her brother. 

He pauses checking over her engine to glance over at her, “What shit?”

“Y’know exactly what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” She crosses her arms and glares at her older brother. The brother she loves as much as she hates that did his best by her growing up and has always been one of the worst influences in her life. She knows he’d die for her, she also knows if she ain’t careful, he’ll get her killed somehow. 

“Been a while since ya seemed happy, is all. Found that, figured ya could use something ta make ya feel good,” Jesse shrugs and returns to fiddling with her engine like he doesn’t see how fucked it is that he gave her coke when he knows about her addiction issue. 

“I ain’t touched that shit since I was eighteen! It’s the fuckin’ apocalypse for fuck’s sake! Ain’t no one fuckin’ happy. Ya ain’t goin’ ‘round givin’ everyone else drugs,” She runs a hand through her hair irritably despite the pain when her fingers catch on a knot. 

“Don’t care if any of the rest are happy, just ya and the boys. If that shit makes ya happy, makes ya feel good, an’ it don’t hurt the boys none, take a line or two and enjoy, ain’t no one gotta know,” He sounds like he’s struggling to comprehend her issue. Which he probably is, she knows he wouldn’t turn down meth if she handed him a bag of the shit. 

“I quit for the fuckin’ boys. Y’know I can get mean on that shit,” Coretta’s voice goes up an octave even as she tries to keep her voice quiet. Makes her sounds all squeaky and shit. 

“If ya don’t want it, give it back,” Jesse says it with a look that’s daring her to do just that. 

Coretta falters and doesn’t say a word for a moment, because she ain’t sure she wants to give it back. As much as she don’t want it, she ain’t sure she wants to just give it away. Jesse must understand and he nods a bit, “Thought so. Yer fuckin’ welcome. Now fuck off, tryin’ ta keep this piece of shit runnin’ for ya.”

Coretta wants to rage at her brother. Wants to curse him to hell and back. Wants to cry and demand to know why he couldn’t just think a little more before giving her the coke. Wants to shriek and rage and hurt him. Wants to lash out, but she doesn’t. She knows that tone, the tone he used growing up when he got sick of his little sister trailing after him. It’s the one that means if she pushes, he’ll say vile things that will make her feel like it’s daddy talking to her instead of Jesse and she doesn’t want that. Not when Rick and Carol are within earshot if Jesse raises his voice even slightly. Not when Glenn is still waiting for a reason to kick Jesse to the curb. She swallows her anger and frustration and hurt and just turns and walks silently away. 

She walks by everyone and goes up to her boys’ cell. With the rope keeping them attached to each other, they’ve taken to sleeping in Keston’s bed to make life easier on them. They’re both napping and curled up around each other like a litter of puppies. She settles on the edge of the narrow bunk, careful not to disturb their sleeping, and buried her face in her hands. This is all so fucked. She thought the apocalypse would make her addiction issue a thing of the past permanently. Instead, it’s been offered to her on a silver fuckin’ platter by her own fuckin’ brother. 

She doesn’t know how long she sits by her sons’ sleeping forms and tries to remind herself that she’s sober for them. Not her. Her sobriety was to be better for them. If she fails now, she fails them. She can’t do that shit. Can’t let herself fuck up now. 

She stares at her boys and watches their chests rise and fall with every breathe and how they twitch in their sleep. Watches Keston kick Mason in the thigh and Mason respond in kind without waking up. Even in sleep, her boys are rough on each other. Boys are like that, she supposes. Lord knows, Jesse and Hunter weren’t gentle, though Hunter came closer than anyone one else in their family to the word. Expect maybe Momma, but Coretta ain’t sure she counts considering most of the time she was too depressed to do anything. 

Coretta’s leg starts shaking with that frustrated, nervous energy she’s had ever since she saw that bag of coke in her cell and she’s up and out of her sons’ cell in the time it takes her heart to beat. She ends up with her elbows on the railing and watching her group mingle down below her, it’s late enough in the afternoon that most work is done for the day and it’s mostly small chores and watch and dinner being made that’s left. Which means she ain’t gonna find a job time consuming enough to keep her mind off her issue. Coretta’s skin is crawling in that wanting, needy way that she hates because she very much should not want that shit so badly. 

She needs an outlet. Needs a job. Needs to be alone so she doesn’t snap at someone and she needs to not be alone because then she probably will end up snorting lines until her heart beats a little bit wrong and she’s overheated and the world is in a sharp funny kinda focus that’s somehow unfocused too. She wants that so fuckin’ badly. She wants that bitter taste in the back of her throat that happens a little bit after each line when the residue drips down the back of her throat from her nasal cavity. It’s the worst taste in the world but it’s good. It’s a little extra high for all it tastes like absolute shit. She wants the high, short as it is, and terrible as it is to have it, she fuckin’ wants it. 

It’s the fuckin’ apocalypse. The end of the world. The fuckin’ rapture or some shit. The dead are fuckin’ walking. World has gone to hell in a fuckin’ hand basket. She has cocaine. She could justify taking it as easily as she could argue against it. And it’s a limited fuckin’ supply. Once she’s run through it, it’s gone. Ain’t no more. She can find more cigarettes. Find more alcohol. Hell, she can make shine if she finds the stuff for it. Could probably figure out how to make roll up cigs if she could find the fuckin’ tobacco for it. Can’t make more coke. Getting back on it, just to have to quit again sounds as shitty as it is tempting. 

She could do it. Doesn’t want to, but she could. And that’s the problem. There’s nothing really stopping her. Just her. Her reasons are all that’s keeping her from doing that and reasons aren’t a solid thing. They’re ideas and ideas ain’t real. They’re words and feeling in her fuckin’ head. Ain’t nothin’ really stopping her from doing the exact thing she don’t wanna do, but really fuckin’ wants to do. 

She vaguely recognizes someone calling out that dinner is ready. Sounds like Beth. Maybe Carol. She’s not paying enough attention to register the difference in voices enough to identify who’s announcing dinner. She’s on autopilot as she wakes the boys and ushers them down the stairs, dogs trailing behind them, to eat. The boys are bickering over where they want to sit and Coretta just shushes them as she hands them plates. Canned corn and rabbit. Not a terrible dinner. Better than nothing, for damn sure. Dinner is a blur of voices and people and Coretta keeps to one and two word answers whenever someone other than her sons speak to her. It’s rude, probably, definitely not normal for her, she tends to talk when spoken to. Just how she is. Not tonight though. Fuck, Daryl is chattier than she is tonight. That’s almost fuckin’ depressing, but she’s so twisted up about the fuckin’ coke that she thinks she’s gonna say something fuckin’ dumb if she lets herself talk more than that. She’s on autopilot as she helps wash dishes after dinner while her boys and Sophia play cards and Carl plays child soldier. She’s on autopilot as she makes a bottle for the baby so Beth doesn’t have to do it while holding the little thing. She’s on autopilot when she gets Glenn and Maggie to let her take the night watch shift. Grabs a pack of her cigarettes from her box and makes a shitty ass cup of coffee from the stale coffee grounds they have and downs it before going down to the watch tower for the night. 

She don’t like watch, especially not at night when it’s silent and dark and it ain’t even summer yet so there’s none of the stupid screaming cicadas to break the silence. But it’s better than being alone with her fuckin’ cocaine. She’ll take this over that any fuckin’ day. So she sits up in that watch tower and starts into the night, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. Not because she don’t want to light it, but because she’s trying to remind herself that she don’t have to. She don’t need the nicotine. She wants it. Like she wants the cocaine. Addictive personality. She thinks she read about that somewhere. She ain’t sure what it fully entails, but if that’s something she’s got, she wouldn’t be fuckin’ surprised. The fact she ain’t ever drank like her daddy drank is a damn miracle probably. 

She twitches, but doesn’t look over when Daryl fuckin’ Dixon joins her up on the watch tower and tosses her his fuckin’ poncho, “S’cold, woman. Gonna freeze yer ass off if ya don’t start wearin’ fuckin’ layers.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow but puts the poncho on without complaint. Her long sleeved t-shirt is wearing thin and it’s still early spring. He ain’t wrong. Gets fuckin’ cold out here at night. She offers him a cigarette silently as he settles beside her and checks his crossbow over in the dark, there’s just enough moonlight that doing that shit is possible. 

He takes the cigarette and pulls his own lighter out, lights his and then holds it out to light hers without asking. She inhales out of force of habit. The end of her cigarette burns orange as she pulls it from her lips and blows smoke out in the dark, “Thanks.”

He grunts a little, “Ya usin’?”

Coretta wants to snap on reflex. Wants to tell him it ain’t his fuckin’ business if she is, but she swallows that back and shakes her head, “Not yet. Been thinkin’ on it. Ain’t touched the shit in years.”

“Why ya got it then?” He sounds like he thinks she’s lying again and she don’t like that shit at all. 

“Jesse gave it ta me, said he figured I needed somethin’ ta make me feel good,” Coretta shrugs, “He thinks he were bein’ sweet probably. Lookin’ out for his baby sister or some shit.”

She watches from the corner of her eye asthe tip of his cigarette burns bright orange when he takes a drag. He don’t say a word for a minute, then, after he’s blown a few smoke rings, says, “Even Merle wouldn’t do that shit. Not if kids were in the picture, anyway.”

“Merle ain’t Jesse. Jesse ain’t Merle. Jesse figures a quick high like coke won’t be enough to fuck things up,” Coretta takes her own drag. 

“Ya wanna take it?” His voice is oddly controlled when he asks. 

“Don’t wanna take it, but I do, and I need ta get rid of it,” Coretta tries to explain how she’s been feeling about the whole thing. Probably does a shit job of explaining, but he seems to get what she’s saying. 

“Yer an addict,” he says it easily. Like it ain’t shit. Not a question. Just a statement. The same way someone says the sky is fuckin’ blue. 

“Expensive fuckin’ habit too. Got on it in high school, friends of Jesse’s ‘round the neighborhood got it for me. Quit cold turkey when I got pregnant. It was a fuckin’ nightmare ta quit that and everythin’ else while all the hormones were runnin’ wild,” Coretta’s lips twist into a humorless smile, “Nearly ten years clean of the shit.”

He nods a little, “Ain’t worth it.”

She considers that. Wonders if he’s talking the short high or the high price the drug used to cost. Or if he’s talking throwing ten years of being clean away. Or if he’s talking something else. Could be any of it, could be all of it. She ain’t sure, she just watches the dark tree line, “I know.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything back to that, just smokes his cigarette like they never spoke in the first place. Coretta don’t mind the silence. It’s nice enough. Quiet is better than explaining all the ways her whole life is fucked up. She ain’t sure why she’s alright with telling him, ain’t like she tells the rest of the group shit about her life before all this and ain’t no one interested in trying to get it outta Jesse. She’s on her second cigarette when he decides to break the silence.

His voice is something she’d liken to a dog growling when he speaks, “Yer brother know yer addicted?”

Coretta tilts her head and eyes him out of the corner of her eye, “Yeah, knows why I quit the shit too.”

Daryl grunts a little and lights another cigarette from the pack she set between them, “Dumb fuck.”

She doesn’t say anything to that and he’s climbing down from the watchtower, cig dangling from his lips as quickly as he showed up. There’s just enough light that she’s able to recognize his facial expression as he does. Man has a good fuckin’ poker face, but she knows rage when she sees it. It’s in the way his eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flaring as he leaves and the way his arms flex like he’s gearing up to break someone’s nose. Coretta ain’t sure he can take her brother, and would much prefer he didn’t try. Jesse can be a piece of shit, but he’s blood and she don’t want her brother fighting people in the prison. Ain’t gonna end well. She can feel that shit in her bones. As it is, she’s got watch until midnight. Ain’t nothing she can do now to stop anything from happening. So she’s just gonna focus on her fuckin’ job, instead of the dark look on Daryl’s face as he left. 


	50. Chapter 50

Daryl is already gone the next morning and so is her coke and Jesse looks like he lost a fuckin’ fight with a truck. Jesse refuses to talk about it, but Merle was a witness apparently, and is more than happy to fill her in, chuckling the entire goddamn time. She’s dealing with inventory while he checks and cleans every fuckin’ gun they have and they’re both smoking as he regales her with the events of the night before. 

“Yes siree, Darylina came stormin’ in ta D-block like Satan comin’ outta hell. Ain’t often I seen my baby brother so damn mad. He’s the sweet one, told ya that already, but boy, when he gets all pissy, sight ta fuckin’ see,” Merle sounds like he wishes he had a video of the incident. 

“Seen him pissy. S’how we fuckin’ met,” Coretta mutters as she counts how many rounds of ammunition they have left. 

“Bet ya ain’t seen him mad as he was last night, Sweet cheeks. Thought Ol’ Merle was gonna have ta save yer brother’s sorry ass. ‘Sides, he ain’t ever been willin’ ta lay in ta a woman like he did yer brother. Ya ain’t seen Darylina pissy ‘til ya see him go after someone that rubs him the wrong way one too many times,” Merletakes apart one of the handguns with practiced ease despite only having the one hand. 

Coretta hums, “That so?”

“Sure is, dollface. Just came on in an’ dragged yer brother outta his cell an’ went ta fuckin’ town. If it makes ya feel better, Claire sure as shit didn’t just lay down and take it. Gave good as he got. Still ended up on the losing end of it, ain’t gon’ lie ta ya,” Merle is still chuckling as he works on the guns. 

“Lovely,” Coretta murmurs as she starts counting out rounds for a different caliber. 

“Don’t know what the fuck got my baby brother’s panties in a fuckin’ twist though, Claire sure as shit weren’t sharin’ neither. Got any ideas, Sweet cheeks?” Merle grins at her like they’re sharing secrets or something. 

“Why would I know?” Coretta keeps counting out rounds. 

“Yer brother got beat by my brother, who yer awful close ta, despite ol’ Merle tellin’ ya ta keep yer distance. Figure one of ‘em mighta bitched ta ya,” Merle drawls. 

Considering her coke is missing, she had a damn good idea why they got into it, she ain’t interested in sharing that with Merle though, “Hell if I know. Ain’t my business.”

Merle tuts at her, “See, I don’t buy that one fuckin’ bit. Think y’know exactly what got Darylina on the fuckin’ warpath. So I’ll ask ya again, got any ideas?”

Coretta side eyes him, “Ain’t nothin’ I’mma share with ya. Private matters, yeah?”

Merle don’t seem impressed with that at all, “Seems ta me, since my brotha was involved, I got as much right as ya ta know, so get ta sharin’, Sweet cheeks.”

“Nah. Don’t think I will,” Coretta drawls and doesn’t so much as twitch at the irritated look Merle gives her. 

“Yer name came up, so I’m thinkin’ yer at fault somehow. So what the hell did ya do that got my baby brotha involved in yer family business?” Merle sounds he can’t stand how little she’s bothered by him. 

“Exist, I suppose. I ain’t yer brother’s keeper,” Coretta moves to the next box of ammunition. 

Merle scowls for a moment before he leers at her, “Not his keeper, maybe. Bet ya been keepin’ his bed nice an’ warm if ya got him fightin’ yer battles for ya. That it? Ya let him—“

“Merle, much as I enjoy yer way with words, ya should really learn ta hold yer damn tongue, don’t want it goin’ the same way as yer hand, y’know?” Coretta flashes him a thin smile as she finishes inventory and walks out humming to herself in order to drown out the shit he’s saying behind her. She ain’t got reason to sit around and listen to him be a dick. Plenty of other shit needs to get done around the prison, after all. 

She’s helping Beth with laundry and the baby when the sound of the gates opening draws attention. Michonne or Daryl is back. Since Glenn and Maggie ain’t on a run today. Coretta just keeps helping Beth with the chores as the baby coos happily in the makeshift baby carrier Beth is wearing. The girl has been singing the entire time they’ve been doing laundry and Coretta ain’t sure how she can sing so loudly so long. Or how she’s comfortable with so many people hearing. Coretta can only sing for her babies, anyone else hearing is just a side effect of proximity.

Coretta pauses what she’s doing and cocks her head as she hears raised voices outside. That don’t sound right. Sounds like more voices than there should be. Voices she don’t recognize. She don’t think before hissing at her sons and Sophia to get into one of the cells and stay there. She’d tell Carl too, but that kid is determined to play child soldier and she ain’t gonna touch that mess with a fuckin’ ten foot pole. She ain’t even sure where that boy is. Beth is holding the baby tightly and she ain’t singing anymore as they listen to the noise outside and eye the guns warily. If they need ‘em, Beth gonna need to put that baby somewhere safe. Beth ain’t a fighter though and everyone but them is outside. If things go sideways, Coretta is stuck with four children and Beth. Things better not be going sideways today. 

Coretta is holding her breath and waiting for gunshots when the prison door swings open and the rest of the group, those outside and not out working to fix the hole in the administration building, file in. And they ain’t alone. Michonne and Daryl have found people. Coretta needs a moment before she recognizes two of them. Tyreese and Sasha. Two of the group that could’ve joined them but didn’t because Rick was a nutcase and chased them off with a gun. She don’t recognize the man and woman with them, but she catches their names, Karen and David. She knew they were planning to bring more people in, but she hadn’t realized how soon that was gonna end up being. It sets her on edge. She didn’t like strangers before the end of the world. Had been damn near feral and reclusive when she and the boys were in the shack. She ain’t ever quite lost her inherent distrust of strangers, if anything, the end times only made it worse. Even when she knows the benefits of groups. Coretta don’t greet the newcomers as they’re introduced to everyone, just tracks their movements as Rick leads them to D-block. Where Jesse lives and where Merle crashes when he’s sick of the group. Coretta has a feeling Jesse is ‘bout to get the job of apocalyptic hall monitor for these new people. 

Her eyes don’t slide away from the newcomers until they’ve disappeared from C-block. She don’t relax until everyone else returns to milling around. It’s an uneasy atmosphere, wary and tense, but no one is going for guns and no one is snapping and snarling over the newcomers and that’s as warm a welcome as Coretta thinks her people are capable of giving while the Governor is still uncounted for. 

That night there’s a group meeting. The newcomers aren’t invited and Michonne and Daryl get the task of telling them what their strays told them. Coretta is stone faced and silent as she listens to the two quietest members on their group tell them what happened to the Woodbury residents when Jesse’s bomb fucked their gate. 

“Tyreese said when the gates fell, everyone scattered. Those that could anyway. A lot of people weren’t able to get out,” Michonne’s dark eyes land on Jesse and Coretta can see the dislike on the woman’s face. Jesse ain’t been making many friends here. That’s clear enough. 

Rick rubs his beard, “They know what happened to the Governor?”

Daryl is plucking feathers of a bird he brought back and he’s got a bruise on his jaw that wasn’t there the day before, and he sounds irritated as he answers, “Nah. Saw him shootin’ from the top of a car or some shit when the Walkers got in. Didn’t see where he went.”

“So he could still be alive?” Maggie sounds torn between frustration and shock, “Two bombs and a herd of walkers and he could still be alive?”

“Damn cockroach,” Merle mutters from where he leans against the cellblock wall. 

“He was shooting his own people as much as he was the walkers, according to Sasha. He’s not sane,” Michonne continues. 

“Of course he’s not sane, he kept Walker heads in fish tanks— tortured me and Maggie and wanted Michonne killed because she killed the walker daughter he was keeping in a cage,” Glenn sounds like he’s struggling to keep his voice level. The Governor took something, Coretta thinks, away from the kind, easygoing man. This rage and bitterness of Glenn’s is new and unnerving. 

“We’ll keep lookin’. For the Governor and his people,” Daryl don’t like like he’s expecting much to come of it. The man’s trail’s been getting colder and colder and even Red is useless for finding the man. Too many other scents to cover up the Governor’s. They’re chasing a ghost now. 

Hershel shifts in his seat and Coretta can see him rubbing at his stump, “And if we find the Governor’s people? Not all of them were involved.”

“We want more people, taking in the innocents if they want a place with us would make us stronger,” Rick’s voice is the calm, strong voice Coretta remembers from before he lost his fuckin’ shit and started hearing voices that ain’t there. 

And that’s that. They’re going to start inviting people they think won’t be problems into their prison. Three questions to get an idea of who they are. And newcomers will live in cellblock-D. Coretta tries to picture more people in their group, their family as many of her people have taken to calling it. She ain’t sure she’s ready for a lot of new members, but Rick ain’t wrong. They need numbers. In the end of the world, people are as much a resource as any weapon. She ain’t one to reject resources. 


	51. Chapter 51

She and Daryl don’t talk about the missing coke in the days that follow. They don’t talk about the bruises Daryl and Jesse had sported either. Daryl gives up the hunt for the Governor within a month, there are more pressing issues than looking for a man who’s trail’s gone colder than the fuckin’ Arctic. New people just keep getting found. Mostly Woodbury survivors. Parents with children and teenagers. None of them seem to know what the fuck happened to the Governor, none seem to want to know either. Coretta ain’t used to so many people living around her anymore, even with them housed in D-block. She ain’t used to so many faces she don’t know. Ain’t used to faces and voices that ain’t part of C-block. She don’t like it. 

The result is simple. She keeps her distance from them. Her sons keep to Sophia and Carl and Beth, despite Coretta letting them know it’s okay to be friends with the new children, even if that Lizzie girl clearly ain’t all there. Mason won’t make friends with the other kids, ‘cause they ain’t like him or Sophia or Carl, too soft, too weak, he tells her himself and she feels cold when her nine year old son tells her they’re walker bait. That those kids ain’t gonna make it. He sounds too old for his age. Too cold. Carl is the cold one, not Mason, but when she sees Mason watching the new kids, there’s an odd detachment in his eyes, the way he looks at a squirrel or rabbit when they go hunting. It worries her, more than she expected it to, because for all she was okay with him changing to survive the world, she don’t want him to look at others and think walker bait. She wonders where the little boy who liked to bring home strays went. It don’t help that Keston follows Mason’s lead. Won’t make friends with the new children because his brother won’t. It don’t help that the adults that join look down on her sons for being wilder, less sheltered than theirs. Almost like it was before the apocalypse. It makes Coretta’s lip curl and she suddenly cares a whole lot less when Mason tells the newcomers to fuck off. 

As it is, she don’t know how to make her sons not think of the new kids as other, considering she’s struggling to adjust to the newcomers too. So she starts taking Mason out hunting with her, not all the time, but enough that he ain’t all weird when they’re in the prison. Enough that he don’t feel cooped up all the time. Today though, two months after Tyreese’s people joined first, it’s just her and Daryl hunting. 

They’ve been hunting together more and more, even if they tend to split up for awhile as they hunt. They don’t talk much, don’t want to scare off most of the game. But they talk some. Here and there. About what they’re hunting. About her kids. Sometimes about Rick and the council that’s been formed. Sometimes about their pasts. It’s nice, talking to someone who don’t seem startled or pitying when she mentions casually the time her Daddy slammed her head through a wall the one and only time he hit her in the face. Daddy didn’t like bruising her face, Jesse always said it made her look too much like Momma and that would make Daddy feel guilty once in a blue moon. Daryl’s response to that is to just chew his thumb and tell her ‘bout the time he got lost in the woods for nine days and no one noticed. That’s how a lot of their conversations go, she tells a story, sometimes funny, normally shitty, and he tells her one back. Just how it is. No condolences or pity or judgement, just one story offered in return for another. 

That’s what’s happening now, they’re tracking a herd of deer, and that means an overnight hunt. They’ve got their camp set up and squirrels cooking on a spit and cigarettes dangling from their lips as they wait for the squirrel meat to cook. Coretta leans back against a tree with one leg pulled up to her chest while Daryl is crouched by the fire, turning the spit periodically. 

Coretta blows smoke out and grins, “One time, I was like eight, nine, somewhere in there, I watched one of them chainsaw horror movies, y’know? Ended up scared shitless of chainsaws for nearly two years. ‘Course Jesse thought this was fuckin’ hilarious, so this fucker, he takes the chain off one an’ every damn day for a week, wakes me up by revvin’ that thing like a foot above my head. Swear ta god, thought he was gonna kill me first time he did it.”

Daryl snorts a little, “Bet ya didn’t have a problem wakin’ up on time.”

She laughs a bit at that, “Shit wake up call, I’ll tell ya that.”

Daryl takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales before offering his own story, “One time, was drunk as shit, some fucker said I couldn’t hang on ta the top of a movin’ truck. I’m like, fifteen probably, so I’m dumb as shit, so I end up on the top of this drunk dumbfuck’s truck, holdin’ on for my fuckin’ life while he’s goin’ like fifty down the fuckin’ road. Cops ended up pullin’ us over. Kid I’m with starts mouthin’ off ta the fuckin’ cops, but, guess it was right at the end of their fuckin’ shift an’ they wanted ta go home, so they tell him ta shut the fuck up and tell me ta get my ass down off the truck an’ get our asses home or they’d throw us in the drunk tank. Don’t remember much after that besides throwin’ up on my asshole friend’s shoes.”

Coretta laughs real quietly, “Got lucky as shit, sounds like.”

Daryl turns the spit and shoots her an amused look, just a quirk of an eyebrow and the slightest up tilt of one corner of his mouth to indicate his amusement, “No shit, thought I was goin’ ta jail for damn sure.”

She flashes him a crooked smile, “Still ended up livin’ in a damn prison, who’d’ve thought?”

He pulls the squirrels off the fire and offers her one, “‘Least it were by our own choice.”

Coretta takes the stick and spins it in the air slowly as she waits for it to cool enough to eat, “Almost miss my shack, some days, quieter there, less people.”

Daryl grunts a bit, “Safer for the kids. More eyes on ‘em.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, “Ain’t that what ya told me ta get me outta that shack in the first place?”

“Still true, woman,” Daryl pulls a piece of squirrel meat off his stick and pops it in his mouth. 

Coretta follows his lead and starts picking apart her squirrel. It’s as greasy as it always is when cooks over a fire, but she’s too hungry to by bothered by it. She swallows down the meat quick as they both focus more on food than conversation. It’s quiet as they eat, except for the crackling of the small fire and their chewing. Both keep an eye and ear out for Walkers. Coretta tosses the little bones and shit into the fire and watches them crack from the heat as she eats. She remembers hearing once that somewhere people used bones to tell fortunes or some shit. Idly, she wonders as she chews on her squirrel what her fortune would be. 

Coretta tosses in the stick her squirrel was on last and licks the grease off her fingers absentmindedly as her eyes flick around the darkness. Daryl’s eyes watch her across the fire in that sharp animal way of his. He’s started watching her like that more often. It reminds her of when he chased her back when she first met him, but without the irritated edge to it. She plays with the leather cuff he gave her that pushes up the sleeve of her shirt because she likes to see it but don’t like it over her sleeve. It’s still pretty, the turquoise in it still that bright pretty blue, even as the leather has stains on it now. 

Coretta keeps spinning that bracelet around her wrist and thinking of that conversation she had with Carol, the more she notices Daryl watching her, the more that conversation comes back to her. She leans her head back against the tree and looks over at where he’s stretched out by the fire, one strong arm under his head. Wade was pretty, Daryl ain’t pretty. He’s good looking though, she can see that clearly enough, the kinda good looking that’s not pretty. Not meant to be pretty. Rugged, she thinks is the right word, even if thinking that word makes her feel like she’s read one too many shitty romance novels or something. 

She sees why so many of the new women in the prison watch him like they want to eat him. She ain’t sure if any of ‘em have had an actual conversation with him though. She likes him, has spent months with him, trusts him with her sons and knows that trust ain’t misplaced. She ain’t sure those women can say the same and maybe that’s why she comes to the odd realization, an anticlimactic one really, that Carol weren’t wrong back then about Coretta havin’ a thing for Daryl. The conclusion don’t startle her at all, feels more like she’s been deliberately ignoring the obvious for awhile now. She ain’t sure Wade would appreciate this realization at all, but he’s dead now, dead and mourned and burned. He ain’t got the breathe to give an opinion no more. 

Daryl breaks her out of her thoughts after awhile, drawling low and easy, “All that thinkin’ gonna get ya killed one day, told ya that ‘bout a thousand times now, woman.”

“Thinkin’ ain’t killed me yet, Dixon. Have a little faith in me,” She smiles lazily at the man. 

He grunts a little, “I’ll take first watch, unless ya’d rather sit up an’ think instead of sleep.”

“Could come up with other things I’d rather be doing,” Coretta freezes when she realizes what she said and hope to god he doesn’t pick up her meaning. She ain’t sure where she stands with him exactly, she don’t want to make hunting awkward, and she just figured out, because she’s apparently an idiot or some shit, that she’s got a thing for the man in front of her. She ain’t quite ready to go rocking the boat like that now. 

Luckily, Daryl just gives her that look again, the watchful, calculating look he’s been sporting around her more and more and grunts out, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake ya for yer shift. See if we can’t catch up with them deer in the mornin’.”

Coretta just keeps her mouth shut and nods once. She ain’t sure how to read the expression on his face and ain’t sure what to do with the world’s most anticlimactic realization. So she just moves to curl up in her side by the low burning fire with one hand clutching her knife. It’s the same uneasy sleep she always has when she’s sleeping out in the open like this, but she ain’t nervous, Daryl said he’d keep watch and he ain’t a liar. She’s safe as she’s ever gonna get out in the open at night with him around. That’s been proven a thousand times over since meeting him. Knowing that makes it easy to fall asleep with his steady, quiet breathing in the background. 


	52. Chapter 52

Her sons are at Carol’s “book reading” and Coretta’s finished with her shift on the fence killing walkers and she’s bored. Jesse’s been teaching her bomb making, but he’s off fixing shit around the prison so that ain’t an option. Rick and Hershel and Carl are all playing farmer. Michonne is dicking around all of Georgia looking for the Governor. Beth has the baby. Maggie and Glenn are on a run. Some of the Woodbury people are on gate and watch duty. Having so many people means more free time and Coretta’s not sure what to do with it. 

So, she ends up making arrows while she sits outside against a wall with the dogs. Red and Molly-dog are roughhousing and making a huge racket while she carves new arrows. She likes having a stock pile of the things. More she’s got the better off she is. She carves and watches the dogs and listens with half an ear to the people talking and mingling a little ways away by the outdoor kitchen that got built awhile back. 

There’s a group of women all over there. She recognizes one as the momma of the Patrick kid that hero worships Daryl. Another she vaguely remembers is on the council. She can’t remember a single one of their names, except for Karen. The woman Tyreese seems to have a thing for. Lord knows he’s been making puppy dog eyes at the woman more than enough to announce his thing for the woman to the whole world. 

Sounds like they’re mostly bitching about the heat and the boredom and what they miss about life before. Coretta just keeps carving arrows and watching the dogs. She ain’t sure where Daryl is or she’d be seeing if he’s in the mood to put up with her company. She sure as shit ain’t gonna go keep Merle company. Man talks more than anyone she fuckin’ knows. And he ain’t that nice when he does. 

She’s not prepared for someone to sit down beside her. She watches the man, one of the D-block residents, out of the corner of her eye warily, but doesn’t stop what she’s doing. She ain’t much interested in talking right now, would rather focus on what she’s doing. The guy beside her don’t seem to notice that though because he angles himself towards her and offers her a wide, friendly smile, “I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m James.”

Coretta eyes the hand he holds out and reaches out after a moment to shake it once, “Coretta.”

James has a friendly face, an open one, He’d be awful at poker. His smile seems to widen even as she goes back to what she was doing before he interrupted, “Pretty name. It suits you.”

She hums a little and keeps working on the stick in her hand. She ain’t sure why this guy has decided to bother her, but she don’t really care either, so long as he don’t make it impossible for her to work. 

James doesn’t seem at all bothered by her lack of speaking and continues on, “Can’t say I’ve seen you around much, where they been hiding you?”

“Ain’t hidin’ nowhere,” Coretta drawls, “Or ya wouldn’t be botherin’ me.”

James doesn’t seem deterred by that comment at all and laughs easily, loudly, like Wade would when he was more amused than annoyed with her bluntness. She don’t like that this guy sounds like Wade. Not one bit. James don’t notice her discomfort though, just gestures to Red and Molly-dog and asks, “So those your dogs? I’ve seen some of the kids playing with them and wondered where they came from.”

“Yeah, Red an’ Molly-dog. They’re mine,” Coretta sighs internally as she concludes that this guy ain’t gonna go away until he’s good and ready unless she tells him to go to hell. 

“Nice names, so you’re a dog person?” James is overly friendly. She don’t like it. She likes her people, Glenn is friendly, Beth is friendly. She likes them. They’re hers. They’re family. This guy ain’t family even if he lives in their home. She’d like it if he left her be. 

“Like my dogs,” Coretta answers simply. 

That gets another laugh, “Fair enough. Saw you with those two boys the other day, they yours?”

“Yes,” Coretta side eyes him again. She ain’t sure she likes a stranger asking about her kids. 

“Who’s their dad?” James probes. 

“What?” Coretta growls it out, she don’t feel the desire to discuss Wade with a nosy ass stranger. 

“Their dad? He one of the guys around here?”

“No.” Coretta nearly hisses it, “Didn’t fuckin’ make it. We done with the twenty questions now?”

James raises his hands in surrender and his hazel eyes go wide, “Sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. Just not everyday I meet someone as pretty as you and I wanted to get to know you a bit better.”

Her lip curls back in irritation, “Mission accomplished.”

He keeps trying to smooth things over, “I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. Just, you looked lonely out here, and well, thought you could use company.”

“Weren’t lonely,” Coretta stands and puts her new arrows into the quiver and whistles for her dogs. She ignores his offered goodbye and walks away, her patience for strangers worn thin. 

She ends up back in her cell, smoking a cigarette and carving more arrows in privacy as the dogs snore by her feet. She makes a few that would fit Daryl’s crossbow too, figuring he’d appreciate something useful like that. Coretta’s interrupted this time by her sons running into her cell and flinging themselves onto her bed with twin yells of, “Hi, Momma!”

Coretta laughs as she moves the arrows out of their way, puts her cigarette out, and lets Keston crawls into her lap, “Hey, Darlin’s, were y’all good for Miss Carol?”

Mason is sprawled out beside her with his arms flopped out to the sides and his legs dangling off the bed. He grins widely at her, “Sure were! Kinda borin’, ya already taught me ta sharpen knives.”

Coretta smiles a little, “Always good ta review it. And Keston’s gotta learn too. Don’t forget that.”

“Ya could teach him. I could too! Even Daryl could teach him. Gets borin’ cause all them dumb kids ain’t got a clue what they’re doin’. Even Sophia thinks they’re slow,” Mason sounds like he hates going at the pace the Woodbury kids are going. 

“Miss Sophia is too sweet ta be sayin’ things like that. I know she ain’t goin’ ‘round talkin’ bad ‘bout kids just ‘cause their parents ain’t teachin’ ‘em,” Coretta chides lightly. 

Keston giggles, “Sophia had ta tell Lizzie ta quit bein’ dumb ‘cause Lizzie keeps sayin’ Walkers are people. Ain’t that dumb, Momma? Walkers ain’t people. Walkers are walkers.”

Coretta blinks, “That’s right, baby. Walkers ain’t people. Don’t let Lizzie fill yer head with dumb thoughts.”

“Ain’t gonna do that. Lizzie ain’t our friend. She’s just a stupid girl. Don’t even like her,” Mason pipes up, blue eyes serious, “She’s crazier than a loon, think her momma must’ve dropped her on her head.”

Coretta pets Keston’s hair and gives Mason a weak glare, “Don’t be mean, ain’t her fault if she’s got a couple screws loose. Some kids just that way, so long as she ain’t hurtin’ nobody, it ain’t a problem.”

“She ain’t gonna make it,” Mason’s voice is serious as he tells her his prediction for the tenth time since meeting the Woodbury kids. 

“Ya don’t know that, ya ain’t got a crystal ball. Shouldn’t be sayin’ things like that,” Coretta flicks him lightly on the forehead. 

Keston giggles at his brother’s affronted look, “Uncle Jesse says it too. Says not ta get attached ta people who ain’t blood. Told us anyone who ain’t blood is walker bait.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow as she finally learns where Mason is learning this shit from, “Yer uncle ain’t right in the head neither. Don’t listen ta everythin’ he says. It’ll make ya crazy too. Y’all think Sophia is walker bait?”

Both boys look horrified by the thought and answer as one, “No!”

“She ain’t blood though. Neither are Rick or Michonne or Carl or Carol. Neither are Beth or Maggie. Daryl and Merle ain’t blood neither, remember? Glenn? Hershel? What ‘bout the baby? She walker bait?” Coretta continues. 

“‘Course not! They’re family, ya said so,” Mason sounds like he’s getting frustrated. 

“Family, but not blood, ya think family is walker bait just ‘cause they don’t got yer blood? Blood matters, but it ain’t all there is, ain’t everythin’. Don’t be lettin’ Jesse fill yer heads with bullshit,” Coretta gives each of her sons a stern look until they both nod their agreement. 

Satisfied, Coretta ends up curled up around Keston, with Mason pressed up against her side and all three are dozing. It’s a tight squeeze, but it’s comfortable enough, even if Keston kicks in his sleep and Mason snores. It ain’t often anymore that she lets her boys sleep in her bed with her unless they’ve had a nightmare. Part of growing up, she thinks, need to be able to sleep on their own. But occasionally, she lets them sleep with her again, when it feels right. When she thinks it might be needed by them. Today feels like one of those days. 

Coretta’s drifting in that odd half awake, half dreaming state of sleep. Makes knowing what’s real and what ain’t a bit difficult. Like she’s pretty sure the fuckin’ chicken clucking by her head ain’t real, ‘cause farmer Grimes ain’t found a chicken yet. The laughter from outside her cell might be real though, sounds like Beth and that boy she’s seeing. It takes the incessant rapping of knuckles against the bars of her cell to jar her outta her half-sleep. 

“Come in,” She calls out as she disentangles herself from her sons and yawns. 

Daryl pushes the curtains she hung aside and pauses a moment as his eyes flick over her and the boys before he speaks, “Goin’ on the next run, ya need anythin’?”

Coretta tips her head to the side and thinks as Red ambles over to greet the man, “Could use more toothpaste if ya can find any.”

Daryl nods a bit, “That all?”

No, but Coretta hates asking for too much when people go on runs, “Think so.”

Daryl’s eyes go to her sons again, “They need anythin’?”

She purses her lips and considers carefully, “Something to keep ‘em entertained, they’re bored an’ climbin’ walls.”

“Carol’s readin’ ain’t keepin’ ‘em entertained?” Daryl’s eyebrow quirks a bit. She’s pretty sure he don’t know what Carol is actually doing with the kids.

“Guess not,” Coretta gestured to the small pile of bolts she made for him, “Those are yers, figures ya could use more.”

Daryl is visibly startled by that, staring at her like she’s grown a second head before he grunts out, “Ain’t need ta do that, can make my own.”

“I know, just thought I’d be nice,” Coretta shrugs, “Think that’s allowed, ain’t it?”

He snorts a bit as he examines the bolts she made him, “Guess so, ya sure ya don’t need anythin’ else?”

Coretta arches an eyebrow, “Don’t think so, but if ya come across a new blanket or somethin’ I ain’t gonna turn it down.”

That gets a look, “Its Georgia an’ damn near summer. Ya ain’t even got a fan in here, how ya not burnin’ up?”

“Get cold easy. Like ta be warm,” She explains easily, keeping her voice low to keep from waking the boys. 

“Gonna die of heatstroke,” He mutters, “That why ya only wear long sleeves?”

Coretta blinks at that, “Nah, just don’t like my arms showin’.”

Daryl seems to accept that answer without questioning it as he takes the bolts, “Thinkin’ we could take Keston out squirrel huntin’ soon if yer alright with him bein’ outta the fence.”

She glances down at her sleeping son’s face, “Not sure we’ll find much, he ain’t the best at keepin’ quiet yet. If yer fine with that, we can, he needs the practice.”

Daryl seems satisfied by that, “Can go after I’m back from the next run if the weather’s right.”

Coretta offers him an easy smile as he turns to go, “Lookin’ forward ta it, Dixon.”


	53. Chapter 53

When Coretta mentioned wanting an extra blanket, she wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a throw blanket or something. Hell, she wasn’t even really expecting that. So Daryl handing her one of those extra fluffy blankets that’s big enough for a queen-sized bed when he gets back from his run with Rick and the James guy is unexpected. Coretta’s fingers dig into the plush fabric on instinct and she’s grinning from ear to ear in pleasure. Coretta feels a bit like a little kid at how excited she is over this one fucking thing, but it’s soft and thick and a pretty light green color and she’s thrilled. Coretta’s holding tightly to her chest without realizing is and grinning broadly at Daryl, “Yer fuckin’ awesome, y’know that, Dixon? This is perfect.”

Daryl makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and scoff as he pulls a tube of toothpaste and a monopoly board game out, “Didn’t know a blanket’s all it takes ta make ya happy.”

“Don’t need much, should know that by now,” Coretta’s smile widens as he hands her the toothpaste. 

“Think ya just ain’t much for wantin’,” He drawls before jerking his head towards their cellblock and keeping a firm hold on the board game when she tries to carry it. 

“Ain’t like that,” Coretta rolls her eyes. She just don’t like wanting things she don’t really need. End times ain’t the time to be wanting more than she can have. Her little thing for Daryl is one of those things. She ain’t bout to push or hope for anything like that. Best to leave it be. 

“Ya say so,” Daryl whistles sharply as they enter the cellblock, “Mason! Keston! C’mere!”

Coretta laughs a little at how fast her sons appear in front of the man, two pairs of bright, excited eyes watching him intently. Naturally, it’s Mason who talks first, immediately defensive, “Why ya yellin’? Didn’t do nothin’ bad.”

Coretta’s head cocks to the side, and her hair falls around her face as she looks her son over, “Left y’all alone for ten minutes, _maybe,_ if ya got into trouble that fast, yer settin’ records.”

Daryl hands Mason the board game, “Ain’t in trouble, kid, yer momma said y’all been bored. Found this for y’all.”

Mason squints down at it for a moment before he grins up at the man, “Thank ya, Daryl!”

Keston repeats the thanks as he strains to look at the box in Mason’s hands, “How ya play?”

“S’easy, gonna need Sophia an’ Carl, c’mon,” Mason gives Keston a toothy grin and starts hollering for Sophia and Carl. Coretta ain’t really expecting Carl to play, but she hopes he’ll remember eventually he’s allowed to be a kid sometimes. 

“Betcha they’ll be arguin’ over fake money in an hour,” She murmurs as she adjusts her grip on the toothpaste and blanket and starts towards the stairs. 

“Should keep ‘em busy,” Daryl grunts out and follows her up the stairs, pausing to set his crossbow down in his perch while she continues on to put her new things away. 

Coretta hums to herself as she unfolds and refolds the blanket until it fits her bed without touching the floor. She don’t want it getting dirty. It looks brand new. Like he found it in a store or some shit instead of an abandoned house. She runs her fingers over the blanket one more time before stepping back out to landing above the rest of the cellblock. She has first night watch in a few hours with Rick. It’s rare she and Rick are on watch together. Especially now that he’s playing farmer most of the time. The few times they’ve been on watch together, they don’t speak much unless it’s about watch or their sons or Rick’s plans for the prison. Sometimes he talks about Lori. On his really good days. In return, she talks about Wade. It’s a strange friendship, one that seems to exist solely because, for as much as she followed him, she didn’t flinch from telling him when he was wrong or failing as leader. 

Coretta can see Mason and Keston have managed to convince Sophia to play monopoly with them, though Carl is entirely engrossed in a comic book nearby. Better than him being a gun toting mini-adult day in and day out. Jesse is pacing the cellblock like a caged dog. Merle is shit talking anyone who catches his attention. Coretta resists the urge to put a cigarette to her lips as she watches Carol get sick of Merle’s shit and politely shut him up with a sweet smile and a few quiet words. She ain’t sure what the gray haired woman said, but Coretta has a feeling it was more cutting than that sweet smile implies. Carol has a way with words that Coretta greatly fuckin’ admires. Everyone else is doing their various jobs around the prison. 

Coretta is hyperaware of Daryl coming to stand by her. He needs a shower again. She idly wonders if she’ll have an easier or harder time getting him to shower than last time she convinced him to. He’s chewing his thumb the way she’s learned means he’s thinking something over. And he says she thinks too much. She tips her head a little to look at him, “Got somethin’ on yer mind, Dixon?”

She can see him still a little as he glances over at her and stops chewing his thumb, “O’Malley was askin’ ‘bout ya.”

“Who?” Coretta ain’t got a clue who the fuck O’Malley is. 

Daryl squints a bit at her and grunts out, “James.”

She hums, “Hope ya told him ta fuck off.”

He cocks an eyebrow a little at her and his lips thin, “Why? He botherin’ ya?”

“Nah, Just don’t know when a person wants ta be left alone,” Coretta waves it off. 

Daryl’s blue eyes study her for a moment longer before he grunts, “He start causin’ problems, ya lemme know, ya hear me?”

Coretta grins, “I hear ya just fine, Dixon. Seems like a nice guy, just ain’t got more than air between his fuckin’ ears.”

He makes a face that ain’t particularly happy, but ain’t pissed off and nods, “Alright. Still wanna take little man with us on the next hunt?”

“Sure, anythin’ goes wrong, I’ll put him up a tree,” Coretta yawns, the perpetual exhaustion of post-apocalyptic life makes her want to sleep a lot more than she used to. Especially lately, she’s been pulling a lot of night watch shifts without sleeping during the day to make up for it. 

“Gonna have to loosen the draw on that kiddie bow y’all got if he wants ta shoot it,” Daryl drawls. 

“I know. Y’know he wants a crossbow like yers when he’s older? Told me so while ya were on yer run,” Coretta offers Daryl a toothy grin as he visibly startles at that. 

“Why?”

“Kes thinks yer pretty badass. Looks up ta ya. If ya ain’t careful, boy is gonna try ta steal them angel wings of yers,” She gestures to his ever present leather vest with a lazy flick of her fingers. 

“Nah, too big for him, he’d be trippin’ over it an’ shit. Won’t get far if he tries, he‘s barely knee high,” Daryl looks down at where Keston is being told by Sophia how to play monopoly. 

“For now, give it a few years,” Coretta pops each of her fingers and yawns again as she watches Mason take over the explanation. 

“Woman, go sleep or somethin’. Ya got watch tonight, ain’t no use up there if ya can’t stay awake,” He sounds mildly annoyed that he has to tell her that. 

Coretta shrugs, “Only if ya sleep too, ain’t no one ever sleeps on runs an’ ya were gone two days. Ya need it more’n me.”

“Ain’t tired,” is his immediate response. The bags under his eyes tell her a different story.

“Bullshit, C’mon, I’ll even let ya crash with me, nappin’ is always better with people. Warmer, y’know?” Coretta states boldly, feeling entirely out of her comfort zone as she speaks. It’s been a long ass time since she’s shared her bed with someone other than the dogs or her kids. 

Daryl looks like a statue as he registers her words. Like he ain’t sure he heard her right. It’d be funny if the way his eyes were fixed on her didn’t make her feel like she crossed some kinda line. He doesn’t even blink and his jaw starts working a little like he’s chewing on his words before he says them. Maybe she should have thought be for she said anything. 

He sounds a bit like she’s knocked the air out of him when he finally manages to speak, “The hell, woman?”

Coretta shrugs and fully commits to whatever the hell it is she’s trying to do, “Ya heard me, if ya don’t wanna, that’s fine. Just felt like offerin’. Been awhile since I’ve had someone ta sleep with that ain’t a dog or kid.”

If anything that statement makes him even more into a statue than the first one. Coretta ain’t embarrassed by the silence or the way he’s staring at her. She’s a grown ass woman, ain’t like she asked for sex or nothing. He refuses, then he refuses. Ain’t nothing to get all weird over. The silence stretches on and she pushes off the railing to go to her cell. She pauses as she pushes her curtain aside and tosses over her shoulder, “Quit overthinkin’ it, Dixon.”

Coretta takes her shoes and socks off and empties her pockets of everything, dumping her lighter, cigarettes and pocket knife on the little table she dragged into the cell for a nightstand. Then takes thin, black zip up hoodie she’s wearing off and tosses it onto the top bunk. She’s only wearing a tank top under it for once, but figures Daryl probably ain’t gonna take her up on her offer so it don’t matter if the cigarette burn scars covering her arms are showing or not. Besides, sleeping means he wouldn’t be looking at ‘em anyway. Coretta sprawls out, face down, on top of her new blanket, with her arms crossed under her pillow, fully intent on sleeping a little before her and Rick have to sit up in that watch tower for hours. 

She’s genuinely surprised when heavy footsteps follow her into the cell and pause just inside the cell door. She raises her head and looks over her shoulder as Daryl takes his boots off, then his vest, before walking over almost nervously, he still manages to sound gruff and anything but nervous as he says, “Takin’ up the whole damn bed, woman, move over.”

Coretta wiggles herself over to be up against the wall and moves to lay on her side instead. It’s a narrow bed, she ain’t done like Maggie and Glenn and taken the top bunk off to make a full sized bed. He’s practically a fuckin’ furnace as he slides in beside her. He’s tense as hell and doesn’t seem to know what to do. It makes her roll her eyes a little, “Relax, This ain’t gonna get ya shot by Mason. S’just sleep.”

She can feel him shift again and figures she’ll let him adjust to this on his own. He’ll relax eventually. Or he’ll leave. One of the two. She’s just enjoying the added warmth he provides as she works on falling alseep. In the narrow bunk, they’re pressed up against each other and she can feel how tense he is. Like he’s waiting for her to change her mind and kick him out or something. Or like he ain’t used to this kinda contact. She’s halfway asleep when she feels him finally starts to relax. She’s too far gone to tell if the feeling of his fingers playing with the ends of her hair is real or not. She ain’t sure it matters either, it feels nice having him beside her like this. Even if he ain’t too sure about it. She kinda hopes he’ll get a bit more sure about it. She wouldn’t remind repeating this situation. With a little less uncertainty on his part. 


	54. Chapter 54

Taking Keston out of the safe of the prison is a test of Coretta’s ability to stay sane. She’s paranoid as hell something is going to happen and hyperaware of everything around them. Daryl is quiet as they hunt, they’re looking for squirrels, but if they find something bigger, Coretta knows they’ll be bringing that back too. She’s not really expecting a good haul today. Keston hasn’t learned to walk quietly enough for hunting yet even though she can see he’s trying real hard to walk as silently as she and Daryl do. 

On the upside, Keston is paying attention to everything she and Daryl tell him and making a noticeable effort to learn. Even asking questions that Coretta is impressed by. Her baby is smart, she’s always known it. It’s a shame school ain’t a thing anymore, he’d be in kindergarten now, she thinks. Getting to learn all sorts of things instead of just how to survive. 

He’s holding the child sized compound bow exactly like he was taught and he’s got an arrow nocked and ready to go. It’s adorable really, Wade would be so proud of their son right now. Just like he was the first time they took Mason hunting. Keston looks up at Daryl’s back and asks in a little whisper, “Can I shoot the next squirrel?”

Daryl turns just enough to look down at the boy and grunts, “Ya can try, they move ‘round a lot. Gotta be quick.”

Keston nods seriously and his little hands grip his bow even tighter, “I can do it.”

“That’s good, baby, keep lookin’,” Coretta murmurs and taps the boy on the head as they walk quietly through the trees. They’ve only found three squirrels so far. She’s only expecting maybe ten at most today. That’s fine, though, food isn’t short at the prison right now. They’ve had a lot of good luck on runs recently and hunting has been good enough lately that no one is going to starve if they only get a few squirrels. 

It’s been a quiet morning. Only a few walkers so far. All easily put down before Keston can so much as squeak at the sight of the rotting, moaning corpses. Her baby’s gotten good at not making a sound at the sight of them. Just gets tense and moves behind her or Daryl like she told him. 

It’s a hot day as they move, even though it’s not even noon yet. Humid too. Summer is about here and the humidity has just been building. Coretta is expecting summer storms to start soon. Rick’s crops need a good rain. Daryl stops abruptly and Coretta grins a little when she sees why. A fat squirrel that’s halfway up a tree trunk and just sitting there. Keston is practically vibrating with excitement when he spots it too. 

Daryl turns just enough to glance at Keston and wave a hand a little at the boy, “C’mere, Little man, found ya a squirrel.”

Keston is beside the man in an instant with the bowstring drawn back, before he can loose the arrow though, Daryl is kneeling beside him, “Easy, gotta line the shot up, yer momma show ya how ta aim with this?”

“Yeah,” Keston sounds baffled at the idea she hadn’t. 

“Good, aim for the right in the middle of his back. Yeah, like that,” Daryl’s voice is low and gruff as he directs her son on shooting the squirrel, “Alright, now let go.”

The arrow makes an audible thump noise as it hits the tree. The small squeak of the squirrel is cut off. Coretta is beaming at her son’s success as the boy spins around to return the smile, “Momma! Look! I got it!”

“I see that, ya did great, baby,” Coretta is thrilled at her son’s joy. She knows he’ll be talking about it for days. Mason did the first time he managed to kill something on a hunt. 

Daryl pulls the arrow loose, squirrel still attached and hands it to Keston with one of his rare smiles on his face, “Did good, gonna have squirrel stew tonight, I’m thinkin’.”

If anything, Keston is even more excited, “Momma makes the best squirrel stew! Made it all the time at the shack!”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, she really isn’t the best cook. Especially not now, when there’s not much left in terms of seasoning or fresh vegetables, “We’ll see what I can do later.”

Daryl jerks his head towards the north, “See if we can’t find a few more.”

Coretta smiles a bit at the way Keston’s got a skip in his step as he proudly carries his prize as they continue on. They manage to find twelve squirrels in all before she and Daryl decide to call it a day, they haven’t found tracks for anything worth hunting and it seems like there’s no more squirrels that are going to make an appearance today. It’s nearly sunset by the time they make it back to the gates and the sounds of their people hollering and banging on the fence to draw walkers away from the gates greets them as they approach. 

Coretta and Daryl make sure to get Keston in the gates first and as soon as they’re in the safety of the fence, Keston is holding up his squirrel and telling everyone that they see what he did. Coretta grins at her son’s enthusiasm. She hasn’t seen him this excited in a long time. 

Mason meets them in the courtyard and eyes Keston’s squirrel, “Ya shot that?”

“‘Course I did! I’m a hunter too! Like ya an’ Momma an’ Daddy an’ Daryl!” Keston declares proudly as Mason takes the bow from him and checks it over like he’s worried Keston damaged it. 

“Gotta skin it,” Mason points out, “Ain’t no one gonna eat no fur.”

“I know how ta skin! Ya showed me!” Keston retorts. 

“That’s right, let’s go get these ready. Mason, I talked ta Rick the other night, if ya wanna, ya can help on watch tomorrow afternoon,” Coretta tells the blue eyed boy, “Should be helping Merle and one of the Woodbury people.”

Mason beams, “I can do that! I’ll be the best watcher ever!”

“I’m sure ya will, don’t be pushin’ anyone off the tower,” Coretta warns before following Daryl over to sit near the outdoor kitchen, Keston bouncing along behind her while Mason runs off, presumably to tell Merle there’s no escaping him. Mason seems to have decided Merle is entertaining as hell and more than once she’s had to save Merle from her son. She’s pretty sure Merle hides from Mason occasionally. 

“Ya have yer knife?” Coretta checks with Keston as she pulls the arrow out of his squirrel. 

“Yes, Momma,” Keston’s big doe eyes are bright and excited. 

“Good, and Mason showed ya how ta do this, so I’mma let ya do it, take yer time, don’t wanna mess it up,” Coretta sets to work on her squirrels as she keeps one eye on Keston’s progress. 

“Careful ‘round the legs, little man,” Daryl rumbles after a few minutes of silence. 

Keston bobs his head, “I can do it.”

“Ain’t sayin’ ya can’t. Sayin’ ya gotta be careful, them legs are real small, don’t wanna cut ‘em off.” Daryl is seemingly endlessly patient with children. Coretta thinks he genuinely likes kids. Especially the little ones like Judith and Keston. 

Red and Molly-dog have taken to hovering around the kitchen area to be for scraps all day and the pair zero in on the three of them skinning squirrels, whining and making those begging faces of theirs as the people work on the squirrels. Coretta rolls her eyes and starts tossing them the guts, “Spoiled, both of y’all.”

Keston giggles as he follows suit and tosses the guts to the dogs too, “They’re not spoiled, Momma! They’re good dogs.”

“Still spoiled rotten. Ya think I don’t know those two eat as much as those pigs Rick found?” Coretta snorts. 

“Think Molly-dog weighs as much as a pig,” Daryl mutters as he works over another squirrel with quick, deft movements. 

“Hershel did say she was underweight when he saw her. Guess she ain’t anymore,” Coretta eyes the brown and white dog that’s scarfing down everything thrown her way. Wade had always complained about how useless Molly-dog was, but she remembers more than once seeing him napping on the couch with her. Mason may have found her, but Wade was the one to spoil that dog, once he got over his irritation at having another animal in their home. 

“Got a damn potbelly on her. She damn near lives over here,” Daryl shakes his head and tosses Red more squirrel guts before Molly-dog can bully her way into stealing the redbone’s food. 

Coretta grins as Keston jumps to the dog’s defense, “She ain’t fat! Just big. Momma says it ain’t nice ta call ladies fat. Mason called Miss Jenny fat once and Momma tanned his hide.”

“Miss Jenny was pregnant, not fat, and Mason made her cry. Ya don’t insult people’s looks,” Coretta reminds him. 

“Molly-dog gets her feelins hurt when ya ta talk bad ‘bout her too,” Keston glares at her. 

“Molly-dog likes anythin’ people say ta her so long as ya use a happy voice,” Coretta points out as she finishes her last squirrel. 

Daryl grunts a little and points at Keston’s squirrel, “Tilt yer knife more, yer gonna cut off the meat if ya don’t.”

Keston squints down at the squirrel in a way that’s reminiscent of the man talking to him and nods, “Got it.”

Keston is nearly done, he’s got a long way to go before he’s able to do it quickly though. Coretta thinks he’s doing well though. He’s ahead of where Mason was when he started. Of course, the apocalypse hadn’t happened back then to make this a necessity for living. Coretta figures that has probably changed what things are and aren’t life skills. At least Keston is proud of himself. Kids like to feel like they’re important, she figures helping feed the prison must be making him feel pretty damn important right about now.


	55. Chapter 55

It’s pouring rain the day Coretta discovers she’s still capable of jealously. She hasn’t been jealous of another woman since high school when Hailee Whitechurch got it in her head that she’d look better on Wade’s arm than Coretta. It’s been years since that familiar, sour feeling of insecurity has been present in her life, at least in regards to other women. Watching Meridith, one of the women from Woodbury, flirting with Daryl as he tightens the strings on his crossbow does it though. Coretta is helping with Judith so Beth can have some free time and leans against a wall, bouncing the baby in her arms and trying not to glare at the other woman. 

There’s nothing inherently _wrong_ with Meridith. She pulls her weight in the prison. Helps with whatever she needs to whenever she needs to. She’s not a bitch. She’s friendly to everyone and says good morning to Coretta every day. There’s nothing wrong with the woman and that’s the _problem._ Coretta wants there to be something wrong with her. As it is, Coretta can’t help but watch the woman flirting with a near silent Daryl and compare herself to the other woman. 

Meridith is pretty. Real pretty. Coretta can see that clear enough. She’s got that homecoming queen kind of pretty with thick, shiny brown hair and a sweet face and wide smile and big green eyes and Coretta knows she’s never had kids and so her stomach doesn’t have old stretches marks working their way up it. Coretta’s always been thin and the apocalypse has been harsh about stripping away any weight she never quite managed to lose before, but her figure has never quite been the same since having the boys. It’s never bothered her before but Coretta can count her flaws plenty and she knows she’s being irrational but she can’t help but think Meridith is prettier. That’s not even counting the burn scars on her arms or any other scar she sports from childhood. 

The only thing that’s keeping the jealousy from getting too bad is that Daryl seems to be barely responding to the woman. If anything, it looks like Meridith is flirting with a brick wall. Coretta forces herself to go back to playing with the baby in her arms. Judith is a chunky baby that giggles at everything. She’s probably three months old now and Coretta thinks this was her favorite age when her boys where little. Alert enough to do more than sleep all day and Coretta can carry her around on her hip, but she’s not really mobile yet. It’s a cute age. One she’s missed. 

Coretta tickles the baby lightly to get her giggling and grins at the sweet sound. God, she misses when her boys were this small. Carol wanders over to her and Judith and smiles lightly, “I see you’ve finally warmed up to her.”

“Was never not warmed up ta her. Just felt weird holdin’ a baby again. ‘Specially in the end times,” Coretta responds as she kisses the baby on the head. 

“She’s certainly one of a kind around here,” Carol muses. 

“Sure is,” Coretta’s eyes drift back to Meridith as she continues on with her attempt to catch Daryl’s attention. 

Carol’s eyes follow her gaze and the gray haired woman shakes her head, “She won’t get anywhere with him, but it’s funny to watch her try, isn’t it?”

Coretta tilts her head to look at the woman as she adjusts the way she’s holding Judith, “Funny?”

“Sure, funny. She’s been flirting with him for days now and I think the most reaction he’s given her is a grunt. Pookie barely knows she exists,” Carol sounds dismissive as she speaks. 

“Pookie?” Coretta can feel a slow grin spread across her face at the nickname. Oh, she had no idea that was what Carol calls the quiet man and she’s tickled pink by it. 

Carol is clearly smothering a smile as she changes the topic, “I was _wondering_ if you’d help me with my reading time. Not everytime, but Lizzie is... struggling with the idea of certain things, I’m hoping you might be able to talk to her.”

“She the crazy one?” Coretta vaguely remembers her boys mentioning a girl named Lizzie. 

“She’s not crazy, she’s confused,” Carol chides. 

“Ya say so. I can try, ain’t promisin’ a miracle,” Coretta shrugs as her eyes find Mason and Keston. They’re whispering to each other by one of the cells. She hopes they aren’t about to do something stupid. Whispering is never a good sign when it comes to kids. 

“That’s all I ask, I’ve tried everything I can think of to get through to her and I don’t think she’s getting it,” Carol sounds disappointed. 

“Her daddy know ‘bout her issues?” Coretta blows a raspberry on Judith’s cheek and grins at the giggly squealing she’s rewarded with. 

“I don’t know, I can’t exactly ask, he doesn’t know what my reading time goes over,” Carol sighs. 

“Ain’t like ya can keep it secret forever, gossip spreads faster than the damn flu ‘round here,” Coretta cautions. 

“Unfortunately,” Carol raises an eyebrow and nods towards where Meridith and Daryl are, “Looks like Mason and Keston are tired of her hanging around.”

Coretta turns her head and watches her boys not so subtly move between the woman and Daryl and start peppering the man with questions. Keston seems to just be following Mason’s lead. Mason, on the other hand, keeps glancing behind him at Meridith and shooting her narrow eyed looks. Well. That’s interesting. Coretta sighs, “Think I should make ‘em quit?”

Carol shakes her head, “Why would you? Daryl loves your boys. They aren’t bothering him any.”

Coretta laughs at her friend’s dismissive response and hikes Judith higher on her hip, “Ya enjoy this.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Carol says with a sniff as she goes to leave, “Tomorrow reading time is at noon, don’t forget.”

She rolls her eyes and offers the woman a mocking salute, “Yes ma’am.”

Coretta spares one more glance at where her boys are intentionally, and unintentionally on Keston’s part, cockblocking Meridith. Mason looks extremely smug as Meridith gives up for the time being and Daryl gives the boys answers to whatever it is they’re asking him. Coretta isn’t sure when Mason decided this was part of his job, but she’s more than a little amused by it. Watching Meridith’s flirting fail because of a pair of children is extremely funny and Coretta’s humming to Judith as she goes off to change the baby’s diaper. Little girl reeks all of the sudden. Coretta doesn’t miss this part of having a baby.


	56. Chapter 56

Coretta ain’t sure what to make of the girl sitting across from her in the far corner of the library. Lizzie can’t be older than eleven or twelve, but she’s got an oddly serious face and talks in a weirdly flat tone. She can see why her sons don’t seem interested in befriending the girl, but other than that oddness, Lizzie don’t seem that weird. Still, Coretta told Carol she’d try to get through to the girl, so she’s going to. 

“Carol says yer scared of Walkers,” Coretta lies, not sure Lizzie is gonna be truthful if she asks her about thinking the Walkers are people. 

“I’m not scared of them,” Lizzie refutes immediately. 

She blinks at the young girl across from her and tries again, “It’s alright if ya are. I mean, they’re nasty dead things tryin’ ta eat ya. They’re kinda scary.”

Lizzie just shakes her head, “They don’t scare me.”

“Why not?” Coretta knows they scare everyone at least a tiny bit. They aren’t natural at all, even she gets a tad nervous when she ain’t got a fence between her and a walker. It’s normal. 

“They won’t hurt me,” Lizzie sounds so earnest saying it that Coretta feels a bit like she’s in the twilight zone as she processes that. 

“‘Cause there’s a fence?” Coretta tries hopefully. She’d prefer what Mason and Keston told her not be right. 

Lizzie shrugs a little and glances a the book they have between them for if someone who ain’t supposed to be in the library during reading time comes by, “I guess. Are you Mason and Keston’s mom?”

She keeps her face from showing her surprise at the sudden topic change and nods, “Sure am, Miss Lizzie, I hope my boys are nice ta ya.”

“Mason calls me crazy. I’m not crazy,” Lizzie tells her in that same flat tone but her eyebrows have come together to glare at her. 

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry Mason calls ya that, do y’all not get along?” Coretta thinks she can steer the conversation in the right direction from here. 

“No,” she answers simply. 

“Is there a reason?” Coretta hedges, she only has an hour before reading time is over and she has to call it quits. 

Lizzie shrugs again and picks as her pants leg, “He doesn’t like the game I play.”

“What game?” Coretta doesn’t like where it is going. 

“It’s nothing bad, I just named a few walkers,” Lizzie tells her like it’s normal. 

“Ya named walkers? Why?” Coretta’s not sure why anyone would want to name them. 

“I was bored, and I though they needed names,” She says it simply, says it childlike. If Coretta hadn’t had this girl mentioned to her by her kids and by Carol, she’d probably brush it off as a weird kid thing. 

“Y’know they can’t learn their names, right?” Coretta isn’t sure what to make of this. Lizzie’s flat way of talking reminds her a bit of a boy she’d know in middle school that had to go to some special school after he tried to set his homeroom desk on fire before school started one morning. She ain’t sure what was wrong with that boy and she ain’t sure what’s wrong with Lizzie, but she’s really hoping Lizzie’s just playing a game. That she don’t really think Walkers are people. 

“You don’t know that,” Lizzie mutters with a glare. 

Coretta stares at the girl for a minute, just thinking about what the fuck that little statement means. Fuck. This girl actually does think those things are people. Coretta tries as gently as possible to say, “Miss Lizzie, Walkers ain’t able ta learn nothin’, or they’d be climbin’ up our fence right now.”

Lizzie scowls, “Maybe they will.”

Coretta fuckin’ hopes they don’t. She chews her lip before trying, “They’re not gonna, ‘cause they can’t learn nothin’ anymore. They died, Miss Lizzie, just ‘cause they’re up an’ walkin’ ‘round don’t make ‘em livin’.”

Apparently, Coretta shouldn’t have said that because the girl gets pissed. She gives Coretta a furious look and says in a voice that sounds like she’d be shrieking if she wasn’t in a library, “You’re wrong! They’re just different!”

Coretta is saved by the sound of Carol’s kitchen timer going off to indicate the end of the hour and she offers the girl a tight smile, “Aright, Alright, why don’t ya go play now?”

Lizzie just gives her another glare and runs off to the other kids while Coretta’s sons and Sophia stay behind to help clean up. Coretta stands up and pops her back while Carol comes over quickly, “Well? How’d it go?”

Coretta shakes her head, “Look, I ain’t sure what’s up with that kid, but I ain’t sure ya can fix it. She’s givin’ names ta walkers an’ thinks they’re people, that ain’t normal. Ya should talk ta her daddy ‘bout it.”

Carol looks put out, “She says she’s willing to kill Walkers if she has to, to protect Mica.”

“That’s better than nothin’, I guess. Maybe just never let that one outta the fence if she don’t grow outta it,” Coretta shrugs, she really doesn’t know what to think of Lizzie, but figures so long as she’s not harming anyone, she’s fine. 

Carol purses her lips, “Thanks for trying.”

“Ain’t nothin’. Ya really should talk ta that girl’s daddy ‘bout it, though,” Coretta tells her firmly before whistling to her boys and heading back to the cellblock. Mason and Keston are arguing with each about whether Santa Claus is a walker now. Which Coretta hopes means they aren’t too disappointed that they skipped Christmas last winter on account of the apocalypse. 

As soon as they get to the courtyard between, her boys take off to where Merle is working on one of the cars. Coretta grins and lets them go, smothering a laugh when she sees Merle jump and hit his head on the hood of the car when her boys scream their hellos at him. She’d call them off, but watching the surly man get out-stubborned by a pair of little kids every day is easily one of the funniest things to her. He doesn’t seem to have a clue what to make of Mason’s— and by extension, Keston’s— interest in him. 

“Oh! Coretta! Hi, I was just looking for you!” Coretta freezes at the peppy, hight voice of Meridith and watches the brunette speed walk over to her with a bright, huge, almost painful looking smile on her face. 

Coretta’s eyebrows pull together momentarily before she manages to offer a smile back to the woman, “Ya found me, whatcha need?”

“Well, Uh, so this might be kinda weird, I know you and I barely know each other, but I was hoping you could help a girl out,” Meridith sounds all fake embarrassed as she talks. 

“With what?” Coretta very much would like to be anywhere but here. 

“So I know you’re a busy woman, what with those two boys and all, but I promise it won’t be a super time consuming thing, I heard you’re a close friend of Daryl’s, so I was hoping, that you could, maybe, talk to him for me?” Meridith beams hopefully at her. 

“Talk ta him for ya?” Coretta squints a little at the other woman. 

“Well, yeah, maybe just see what he thinks of me and tell me what he says? I’ve been trying to get to know him for awhile and he barely says ten words back, and it’s just hard to know what a man thinks when he doesn’t speak, you know?” Meridith laughs kinda nervous like when Coretta doesn’t respond right away. 

“Um, ya tried talkin’ ta Merle ‘bout it?” Coretta questions dumbly, “I mean, he is Daryl’s brother.”

Meridith rolls her eyes, “Ugh, I already tried that. I won’t repeat what he said, but it wasn’t polite, I’ll tell you that much. So would you please talk to him for me?”

Coretta plasters in her best smile, the one she’d use on bitchy customers that tipped real well at the bar, “Y’know what, Honey? I’d love ta.”

Meridith actually squeals a little and Coretta wants to know how old this woman is, because she thought she was about Coretta’s age, but she’s acting like a fuckin’ high schooler. Meridith is beaming again, “Thank you so much! You’re the best!”

“Right,” Coretta just smiles and nods and walks away as quickly as she can before the woman causes her to want to throw herself off the roof. 

Coretta spends the rest of the day in C-block, bickering with Jesse over nothing while they do any chores that need doing. Normally, he’d be working on building up that wall he’s planned for the hole in the administration building, but they’re out of nails until the next run unless he wants to start unscrewing things around the prison. She doesn’t mention the Meridith thing to Jesse. She doesn’t need her brother giving her shit for her situation. He already has enough ammo to fire at her. She don’t need to give him more. 

Coretta takes a mouthful of moonshine that night after she puts the boys to bed and lights a cigarette, sauntering over to Daryl’s perch to offer him one. Daryl takes the offered cigarette and her lighter and jerks his head in invitation to sit. Coretta sits across from him, one leg pulled up to her chest and the other stretched out and eyes him while she waits for the moonshine to make her bold enough to ask. She blows smoke out and takes her lighter back once he’s done with it. 

Daryl watches her right back, seemingly unbothered by her silence. He’s got that look in his eyes that she’d noticed awhile back. Coretta inhales another lungful of smoke and tilts her head back and exhales, watching the smoke in the dim light before she breaks the comfortable silence with a distinctly uncomfortable comment, “Y’know Meridith wants ta bone ya?”

She looks back at Daryl to see him frozen and staring unblinking at her with his cigarette held up halfway to his lips. She grins a little as he starts squinting at her like he’s trying to decide if she’s lost her damn mind. He manages to force out, “What the fuck, woman?”

“She asked me ta ask ya whatcha think of her ‘cause apparently we’re in fuckin’ middle school or some shit,” Coretta explains with a wave of her hand. 

“An’ ya just agreed?” He sounds a bit like he can’t decide if he should be pissed off or not at her. 

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right. So can I tell her ya ain’t lookin’ ta get with her or nah? ‘Cause ya don’t seem that in ta her from what I can tell,” Coretta takes another drag and grins at him wickedly. 

“I don’t give a shit what ya tell her,” Daryl shakes his head like he’s trying to erase whatever unwanted image her words caused him to have. 

“Pretty brunettes not yer type?” Coretta tilts her head a little to the side. 

Daryl makes a low sound, “Fuck off, woman.”

Coretta’s grin widens as she stands up and she raises her cigarette in the air like she’s toasting with it, “Here’s ta hopin’ blondes got better luck.”

Coretta keeps grinning as he stares at her in what seems to be stunned silence. She winks at him before turning to go to her cell. She hums happily as she goes to get ready for bed, putting her cigarette out in her ashtray while she lets Daryl process that parting comment. Let that bounce around his head for awhile and see what comes of it. Seems like she’s gonna need to be a bit bolder if she doesn’t want this to take the better part of a decade to get moving. This should be a fine start at least, seems she owes Meridith for giving her a perfect way to go about it. 


	57. Chapter 57

It takes Jesse all of a week to figure out Coretta is doing her level best to get Daryl to see her as more than a friend. It takes her asshole brother three more days before he says anything about it. Really, Coretta is just impressed he lasted that long. When she figured out she had a crush on Wade, it took Jesse all of five minutes during one of his irregular visits home to figure it out and even less time to start giving her shit for it. 

She’s working on cleaning the showers when her brother comes swaggering in with a shit eating grin on his face, “Baby ‘Retta, ya ain’t tryna screw that Dixon fucker, are ya?”

Coretta shoots him a warning look before scrubbing the tile harder, the smell of diluted bleach burning her nose as she works, “How long ya been itchin’ ta ask that?”

“Since I noticed ya givin’ him those big puppy dog eyes ya only ever gave Wade,” He laughs, “Ya ain’t exactly slick, but shit, I figured ya would go for another pretty boy like Wade. Ya that desperate ta get some?”

She rolls her eyes and scrubbed harder, “Since when is it yer business what I do in my bed?”

“It ain’t, but seein’ as yer my sweet baby sister, it’s my job ta give ya shit for yer choice in men an’ it’s my job ta know who’s ass I’m kickin’ if he pulls anythin’,” Jesse leans against the wall, careful not to mess up what she’s already cleaned. He’s good about that, at least. Knows she’s real weird about cleanliness. 

“Ya realize I’m twenty-seven, right? I ain’t a little girl no more an’ haven’t been in fuckin’ years,” Coretta raises an eyebrow at him. She politely doesn’t mention Daryl kicked his ass after the cocaine incident. 

“Still my sister, still my job ta keep assholes from fuckin’ with ya an’ those boys of yers,” Jesse drawls. 

“Maybe worry ‘bout yer luck with that redhead bitch, instead of what I’m doin’ with Daryl,” Coretta points out delicately as she scrubs a particularly stubborn stain on the floor, “Don’t think I ain’t notice ya been turnin’ on the charm whenever she walks in a room. Last time I saw ya like that was back when Maria was in the picture.”

Jesse scowls at the mention of the Puerto Rican girl he’d come so close to marrying years ago, “Ain’t nothin’ close ta that. Hannah ain’t nothin’ like her.”

Coretta smiles a little at that. Jesse really had loved Maria. Had wanted to give that girl everything in the whole damn world. Had even bought her a ring and tried to get clean for her. If Hunter hadn’t died, if Jesse hadn’t upped his use of meth to cope with the loss, she imagines Maria would’ve been her sister-in-law by the time Keston was born. Maria had made him want to be a better man. Made him work to clean his act up. Losing Hunter had ruined all that and Maria wasn’t the type to bleed herself dry to try and fix a man’s problems for him. Coretta privately thought Maria walking away was the best thing for the older woman, even if it wasn’t the best thing for Jesse. Last she’d heard of the woman, she’d moved out west somewhere. 

Of course, Hannah ain’t like her. Jesse would never so much as glance at woman that reminds him of Maria. Not in a thousand years. Especially not now, not when in all likelihood, Maria ain’t amongst the living. Her brother has always held Maria up on a pedestal. Being interested in any woman that reminded him of her would have felt like replacing her and Jesse would never be able to do that. 

“Good, maybe ya won’t fuck it up this time,” Coretta drawls after a moment of thought. 

“Ain’t nothin’ ta fuck up. She’s just pretty. Wouldn’t mind spendin’ some quality time with her,” Jesse sounds torn between annoyance and embarrassment and that’s how Coretta knows it’s more than that. 

“Ya say so. If it helps, Hannah likes flowers. She mentioned it when we were doin’ laundry the other day,” Coretta says, internally pleased to turn the conversation away from her and Daryl. Besides, her brother always acts sweeter when he’s got a woman to tell him to quit being an asshole. She ain’t sure ‘bout the psychology of it, but she bets it’s got something to do with their own momma. She thinks she learned ‘bout that in high school. 

There’s a pause and Coretta wrings out her rag over her bucket as she waits for him to ask what she knows he’s gonna ask. He clears his throat and asks, real awkwardly, “She say what kind?”

“No, but I bet some real pretty wildflowers would work perfectly,” Coretta offers, “If ya really wanna go hard, next run for more of Rick’s farmin’ shit, I can get ya some flower seeds. Ya can grow her a damn garden.”

“Ain’t no green thumb, ‘Retta, y’know that shit,” Jesse mumbles, “Ya missed a spot.”

Coretta squints at the spot he’s talking about, “Think it’s just part of the damn tile now. Scrubbed it like ten times now.”

Jesse hums, “Ya couldn’t have gone for one of them dumb pretty boys? Like that James idiot? Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout them doin’ anythin’. Ain’t got the brain cells ta do much more than make ya happy.”

Coretta snorts, “Wade was a pretty boy. I don’t want another pretty boy. ‘Sides, the boys love Daryl an’ he’s been nothin’ but good ta us for months now. Think that’s a good sign, y’know?”

He kicks at the wall a little and sighs, “Could be worse. Don’t mean I gotta like it.”

“So long as ya don’t try ta kill him, yer free ta dislike it as much as ya want,” Coretta retorts. He certainly hadn’t liked when she started dating Wade. Hadn’t thought he was good enough for her by a long shot. Still ended up viewing Wade as a sorta little brother. Eventually. 

“Ain’t gonna kill nobody. Don’t much feel like bein’ kicked outta prison. He do anything though, ya just say the word,” Jesse promises and she knows he’s serious. He rarely says things he don’t mean. Not to her, at least. Not to blood. It’s the most reliable thing about her brother. 

“He do anythin’, I’ll let ya have the pieces when I’m done,” Coretta offers him a grin, “I’m a Claire. I can handle my own problems, y’know that.”

“Thought ya were an Evans now,” Jesse drawls, but he’s smiling teasingly and his blue eyes, identical to hers, are bright. 

“Was a Claire first. Always gonna be a Claire. Ya said that ta me when ya caught wind of me an’ Wade takin’ off ta Vegas ta get hitched,” Coretta reminds him as she sets to work cleaning the tiles on the wall. 

“Still can’t believe y’all did that shit. Shit, I took off at eighteen too, but I didn’t expect ya ta up an’ run an’ get married by fuckin’ Elvis. Like a shitty fuckin’ country song,” Jesse laughs, “An’ don’t try ta tell me Elvis didn’t marry y’all. Wade showed me the fuckin’ picture. Said neither of y’all actually remember it.”

Coretta grins widely, “Sure don’t. Woke up three days into our Vegas trip with a marriage certificate an’ that picture. Wade ‘bout laughed himself sick over it. Went an’ got me that ring once the hangover passed.”

Jesse’s laughter dies and he’s giving her that look he does when he gets worried about her. Eyebrows pulled together and one corner of his mouth twisted down. He squats down where he’s stands by the entrance of the bathroom and sighs, “Wade was a good guy. Ya sure yer ready ta be gettin’ with someone else? Ain’t no shame in takin’ yer time.”

Coretta stops cleaning and sits back on her heels, “I figured, when a month passed and he didn’t show that he was dead. I’ve been mournin’ for over a year now. I’m a damn widow at twenty-seven and it’s the fuckin’ end of the world. Time ain’t exactly on anyone’s side these days.”

He nods a little and grins wide and wolfish, “Alright, ‘Retta, don’t forget protection though.”

He’s retreating as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Coretta throws a rag at him as he runs. His laugher echoes off the walls and so does hers. Her brother has an assload of issues, and she can’t stand him some days, but times like this make her remember the too skinny big brother that used to wake her and Hunter up at two-thirty in the morning to watch movies and would send them out the door to play in the woods before Daddy got home so he was the only one at risk of a beating. She wishes he’d be like this more often. It’d certainly endear him to their people more if he wasn’t a raging asshole half the time. 


	58. Chapter 58

Coretta never touches Daryl without asking first. She don’t think much of it, but apparently he does. She’s massaging his scalp again as Beth sings her heart out downstairs and the summer thunderstorm periodically lights up the night with flashes of lighting and thunder that shakes their bones. The boys are passed out cold, Mason cuddling Molly-dog while Red paces downstairs. Coretta is humming quietly to herself as she works her fingers through Daryl’s hair. 

“Why ya always do that?” He breaks his silence with a drawled question. 

“Do what? Hum?” Coretta doesn’t pause what she’s doing as she speaks. 

“Nah, ya always ask if ya can touch me,” He sounds confused and a little tired. 

“‘Cause ya don’t like bein’ touched. Ya get all tense an’ shit when someone touches ya,” Coretta thought that was obvious. Jesse’s the same way and Hunter was too. Hell, Coretta ain’t a huge fan of bein’ touched if she don’t know the person well. It’s common fuckin’ curtesy not to touch people without permission. 

He grunts a little, “Ain’t gotta ask all the time.”

She laughs quietly at how awkwardly he says it, “I’ll keep that in mind. Still gonna ask though. Gotta make sure, y’know? Don’t need ya biting my head off.”

“Ain’t gonna bite yer head off. Mason would murder me in my sleep if I did,” He says it without skipping a beat and she knows he’s joking with her now. 

“Who knew Daryl Dixon’s afraid of a nine year old,” She teases as she works a knot outta his hair carefully. 

“Ya meet yer kid? He’s a mean one. Even Merle runs from him,” He grumbles. 

“Mason loves y’all though. Ain’t gonna getcha,” She teases, “‘Sides, I’ll protect y’all if he tries.”

“Don’t need no protection from that scrawny kid,” He mutters and tilts his head back a little as she keeps working. 

“Whatever ya say, Dixon.”

Daryl makes a contented noise as she massages circles on his scalp. Coretta goes back to humming softly as Beth’s singing comes to an end finally. Thunder is the only thing that breaks the silence. Coretta is mid yawn when he speaks again, “Whatcha want from me?”

Coretta pauses and says carefully, “Not sure what yer askin’.”

“Ya just lookin’ for a screw or something? Ya keep flirtin’ an’ shit,” He sounds like he’s trying not to be too snarly as he clarifies. 

She goes back to working knots out of his hair as she answers, “Never been the type for hook ups.”

He makes an irritated noise, “Can’t be whatever the fuck ya want me ta be. Ain’t good for that shit.”

“Good for what?” Coretta shifts behind him as she keeps going. 

“Y’know what. Find some other fucker. Ain’t hard, ya can have just ‘bout any dumb fuck ya want here,” He sounds irritated as he speaks. 

“Nah, I can’t, ‘Cause the one dumb fuck I want just told me ta settle for someone else,” She points out and withdrawals her hands from his hair. 

Daryl hunches into himself as he shifts to eye her, “Ya dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

Coretta just raises an eyebrow, “If ya don’t want me, ya can say so, but don’t tell me I don’t know what I want. Yer a good man. The best one I’ve met in a long time.”

Daryl’s jaw works back and forth for a second, “I ain’t no good for ya. Y’know who I was before all this? Nothin’, nobody. Ya would’ve had me kicked outta that bar ya worked at if I’d walked in. Wouldn’t’ve thought twice.”

“I know yer a good man. I know ya do yer best ta do right by everyone here. I know yer good with my boys and I know I trust ya more than just ‘bout anyone else,” Coretta counters calmly. 

“Ya watched me damn near beat a kid ta death,” Daryl throws out, even in the dark, she can see the way his eyebrows are pulled down. 

“And ya heard me threaten ta burn him. I wasn’t bluffin’,” Coretta points out immediately. 

“I left, remember? After I told ya I was comin’ back, I left. Didn’t even bother ta say goodbye,” He says it harshly. Like he’s trying to make her mad over it all over again. 

“And ya came back. If we’re countin’ sins, we should be countin’ mine too, Don’tcha think?” she snaps it, “When the world went ta hell, I didn’t help anyone. I ignored everyone that needed help cause they weren’t my problem. I watched people die that I could’ve saved, but didn’t. I almost didn’t save Sophia. If Mason hadn’t begged, I doubt I would’ve. When the Governor’s people came through, I shot a bitch through the damn neck and I dream ‘bout it every fuckin’ night. I got my brother ta help me blow people up without a second fuckin’ thought. I think I got ya beat in the shitty things done since the end of the damn world department.”

He’s shaking his head and she can tell he wasn’t expecting that response, “Don’t change nothin’.”

Coretta moves to sit in front on him and tries to read his expression in the dark. She wants to run her fingers over his jaw to make him look at her, but even though he said she don’t need to ask permission, she holds back. Instead she narrows her eyes and says calmly, “And all that shit ya said? Don’t change nothin’ either. Still want ya.”

Daryl makes a noise like he’s dying a little, “Fuck, woman, ya shouldn’t.”

She just tosses her hair over her shoulder and raises her chin, “Tell me ya don’t want me.”

Daryl is stubbornly silent and Coretta gets sick of the silence first, she stands up and stretches, “If ya don’t want me, just say so, ‘cause that’s the only reason I can think of that would get me to drop it. But quit talkin’ like yer scared.”

Daryl stays silent and Coretta shrugs as she walks to her cell. She’s said her piece. He knows where she stands. If he don’t want her, all he has to do is say it. She ain’t gonna beg. Ain’t gonna lose sleep over it. Ball is in his court now. 


	59. Chapter 59

Coretta sits in the backseat of the van Glenn prefers to use for runs and fiddles with one of her arrows as they head towards a neighborhood he spotted last time he was out, in search of formula for Judith. It’s them, Rick, and Daryl. Maggie was supposed to go instead of Coretta, but she’d ended up having to help Hershel treat colic one of the horses Michonne had found on her hunt for the Governor. 

So Coretta left her boys with Jesse and loaded up into the van. She don’t expect Jesse to keep the closest eye on the kids, but she knows he won’t let them get into trouble at least. Will probably have them help him with whatever work he’s doing while she’s gone. She’s not too worried. Jesse managed to keep her and Hunter alive for years. He can manage a day or two. 

Rick keeps messing with the Radio while Glenn drives them through the empty roads and Daryl stares out a window like a fuckin’ golden retriever. Coretta is restless. Runs always make her a little twitchy and she only goes every so often. Prefers hunting and helping around the prison than risking being caught by a group of Walkers while scavenging like a rat. She feels like she’s a fuckin’ thief even though there’s no one left who cares what she takes and she enjoys finding new shit. 

When Glenn turns into the neighborhood, she raises an eyebrow. It’s one of those big, fancy neighborhoods. The kind with giant houses with nearly an acre of land between each house. Like the ones her and Wade used to drive through on Christmas for the lights or would take the boys to on Halloween so they could get the good candy. The type of neighborhood she never even dreamed of being able to live in. 

They drive in slowly, watching for any signs of living people. Walkers are a given. It’s people that are the question. Always. And whether or not they’ll pose an issue. Coretta has been lucky so far. Every run she’s gone on hasn’t been interrupted by the living. She’d prefer that streak keep on going. 

“Alright, Y’all, we’re gonna hit one house at a time. Work slow. Most of these look like two stories, so two will go upstairs, two will check downstairs, got it?” Rick twists around in his seat to look at everyone. 

Glenn just puts the car in park in front of the first house. Daryl grunts and puts his crossbow up. Coretta offers Rick a grin, “Ready when ya are, Bossman.”

Rick huffs a laugh at the nickname she’s refused to drop even though he’s not in charge anymore, “Eyes and ears open.”

Coretta nocks the arrow she was messing with onto her bow as she steps out of the car and circles around. Falls in beside Glenn as Daryl and Rick take the lead. She eyes the open area around them as they make their way up the walk way, but there’s no walkers close enough to make her nervous. Nothing worth the effort yet. 

Rick bangs on the front door to draw whatever might be in the house to them and waits a minute. When nothing comes, he eases the door open and everyone readies themselves in case there’s something in the house. One walker finally stumbles out into the front hallway and is promptly put down with a bolt in the head. From there they work the house quickly. She and Glenn handle the upstairs, while Daryl and Rick take downstairs. They’re looking for baby formula, but anything useful is taken too. The house is utterly devoid of any signs the people who lived here even had kids, so aside from a few rolls of toliet paper and a bottle of aspirin, they leaving it without much of anything. 

The next two houses are about the same. It’s the third house that’s different. They walk in and there’s an empty baby carrier and everything is childproofed and there’s no a single sign of Walkers anywhere in the house. Everything is covered in dust and at first it looks like the family who lived there got out safely. Coretta ain’t sure what it is about the place as they grab the cans of powdered formula from the kitchen and a few new bottles, but something don’t feel right. It clicks when she realizes how much formula they’re taking. 

“Y’all, there ain’t no Walkers here. And it looks like they took some of their shit, but they left the formula. So how’d they feed the baby?” Coretta looks around at the men and none of them look comfortable with what she’s asking. 

“Maybe they had more? And just couldn’t fit it all?” Glenn sounds forcefully positive. 

“I’m gonna go check upstairs. Maybe there’ll be some baby clothes for Judith,” Coretta sets down one of the bottles and heads to the stairs. The uneasy feeling doesn’t fade. Babies need a lot of formula. She don’t get why someone with a baby would leave so much of it behind when the master bedroom downstairs was missing clothes and suitcases and there ain’t no walkers in the house. Maybe the Momma was able to go to breastfeeding. She hopes that’s what happened. 

The nursery is easy to find. Second door on the left down the upstairs hallway. It’s painted a pretty pastel green with little bears painted in cream on the walls. It’s quiet and she sets to work searching for anything for Judith. She finds a box of diapers that are just about Judith’s size and a little baby parka. It’s too hot for that right now, but Coretta grabs it anyway. Judith will need something when winter comes. She finds another can of formula and bottles of water since some parents don’t use tap for their baby’s formula. Coretta makes a little pile by the door of shit for Judith. 

There’s a noise from the crib that makes Coretta’s blood run cold. It’s not a baby’s cry. It’s a quiet moaning in a little, undeveloped voice. Coretta’s breathing gets harsh and fast and she starts fumbling for a cigarette and her lighter and tries not to look over. Doesn’t want to look in the fuckin’ crib. She manages to get the cigarette lit and she’s got her bow leaned against the wall and she can’t not look. There’s a strange, detached horror setting in as she goes over to stare into the crib and she ain’t sure what noise comes out of her mouth, but it’s low and choking. 

There’s a pillow on top of something that’s moving and making tiny Walker noises and the smell coming out of the crib is awful now that she’s noticed it. Now that she’s connecting dots she doesn’t want to be connecting. Everything in her is screaming at her to leave the damn pillow where it is, but her hand is moving without her telling it too and before she knows what’s happening the pillow is in her fist and out of the crib and she just stares down at what’s in the crib. There’s no bite marks. That’s her first hysterical thought. No bite marks and a pillow over him and no dead parents walking around and Coretta can take a guess what happened here. 

Coretta has no idea how long she spends staring at the— the _thing_ in the crib. The pillow fell from her hand to the floor at some point and the hand holding her cigarette is shaking hard and her mind is utterly blank aside from distant horror at what she’s looking at. Must have been at the very start. Before people knew everyone who died came back. Coretta’s thoughts are odd and disjointed as she keeps coming up with an explanation for what she’s looking at. 

“Coretta! Ya find anythin’?” Daryl’s voice breaks the silence from the doorway and Coretta barely reacts, but she’s distantly aware of him walking towards her and stopping beside her, “ _Shit._ Stop lookin’, ya need ta stop lookin’.”

Coretta’s voice is distant even to her ears, “He ain’t bit. He didn’t get bit. Daryl, there was a pillow over his fuckin’ face an’ he ain’t bit an’—“

Daryl’s hands are on her shoulders and he’s spinning her away from the crib and blocking her view with his body at the same time, “Ain’t nothin’ ya can do. It ain’t yer boys, it ain’t Asskicker, or Sophia, or Carl. Ain’t any of the kids. Don’t fuckin’ look.”

Coretta’s voice is getting faster and higher pitched, “I don’t— I don’t understand. Why’d they do that? Who does that shit? He’s so little an’ he ain’t bit. He ain’t _bit._ Daryl, he ain’t bit, _what the fuck?!”_

Daryl pulls her into his chest in a hug that’s half restraining and half comfort and he’s mumbling into her hair as he half carries her out of the room, “I dunno, alright? I dunno. Must not’ve been real good parents or somethin’. It ain’t nothin’ ya can help. Ya can’t help him. He ain’t there no more. He ain’t one of yer boys. It’s alright. Shit, it’s _alright.”_

Coretta’s distantly aware that the cigarette fell somewhere in the nursery and that she’s crying and she ain’t even sure why because she’s seen walkers. She logically knew this had to be a thing. But she’s crying and shaking and Daryl is somehow getting them down the stairs and she’s distantly aware of him telling Glenn and Rick to get the pile she made by the nursery door and her bow. Can hear him growling at them that it’s time to move on. 

“Yer fine, woman. Yer fine. Ain’t nothin’ ya can do. Just can’t think ‘bout it, alright? Gotta put it away somewhere. Don’t think ‘bout it. Ya hear me?” Daryl is still mumbling into her hair as he gets her in the van. 

Coretta’s got tears pouring down her fuckin’ face and she knows she looks pathetic— hell, she feels pathetic— but she can’t stop. She can’t stop seeing that baby in that fuckin’ crib and she just don’t know how to rationalize it in her head. Can’t think of why someone would do that. Daryl’s let her go and he’s chewing his thumb hard as his eyes keep flicking to the house and back to her. She ain’t what to say, and ends up stuttering out, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I—“

Daryl’s eyebrows pull together and he looks kinda pissed, “Shit, ain’t nothin’ ta be sayin’ sorry over. Ya ain’t do that shit. Just stay in the van, think we’re headin’ home now. Got plenty of shit for Asskicker. Now, quit sayin’ sorry.”

Coretta’s head is throbbing as her tears finally start to subside around the time Rick and Glenn come out with the rest of the haul and her bow. Daryl takes that and hands it to her, giving both of the other men death glares when they glance at her. Both seem paler than normal though, so Coretta figures they probably know why she’s not doing too hot. It’s an absolutely silent drive back and Coretta doesn’t just starts at the back of Rick’s seat and tries to think about anything other than what she found in that house. 

It’s just after sunset that they make it back and as soon as the supplies for Judith are brought inside, Coretta is collecting her sons from Jesse and calling the dogs to her, and pretty much just clings to them for a few hours despite Mason’s complaints that he’s too big for cuddling his Momma. Daryl checks on them once, awkwardly standing in the doorway of her cell well after both her boys have passed out. Coretta blinks at him and without thinking reaches a hand out and gestures for him to comes join her and her boys and the dogs on the too crowded, twin-sized bunk. 

He eyes the bed dubiously and shakes his head once before walking over and lifting Mason up and jerking his head towards her cell door expectantly. It takes her a little more maneuvering because she and Keston are wrapped up in the giant green blanket Daryl has found her and she very much doesn’t want it to fall off her. But she manages and Keston only wakes up for a moment before falling back asleep as she carries him out after Daryl, doing her best not to trip over the blanket that’s wrapped around her and dragging the ground. She and the boys end up settled in Daryl’s perch and the dogs follow them up there and there’s not really mattresses to sleep on so much as a pile of animal skins and blankets and a couple pillows and it’s a tight squeeze and warm as all hell with so many bodies, but Daryl puts himself between them and the door and her boys are still passed out without a care in the world and the dogs are snoring already and she’s not shaking with the weird grief, panic, shock she had been earlier. 

After awhile, she’s half asleep and pretty sure she’s using Daryl’s leg as a pillow, but instead of complaining or making her move she just hears him mutter, more to himself than to her she thinks, “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”

If it weren’t for how exhausted she is, she’d try and form a response. As it is she just hums a little before giving into sleep entirely. 


	60. Chapter 60

In the days after waking up in Daryl’s perch, Mason switches his attention from pestering Merle to somehow always managing to be in Daryl’s vicinity at any given moment. Coretta would call him off, but she ain’t really sure he’s doing any harm and he’s not begging to help with jobs nine year olds got no business doing. So she leaves it be. Daryl can handle a kid trailing him if Mere was able to survive it. Keston is trying his damndest to help Beth with Judith. Her baby is still absolutely obsessed with the baby and talks to her like she can understand him. The fact Beth is so patient with the two smallest children in the prison makes Coretta willing to leave that be too. 

She hasn’t mentioned the fact Daryl let her and her boys crash in his perch and neither has he. If it changes anything, Coretta can’t tell. She just continues as she has been, though she keeps more distance between her and Judith than she did before after seeing the walker infant on the last run she went on. She can’t find Molly-dog and she’s got time before she’s supposed to take the afternoon watch so she’s wandering through the parts of the prison that have been secured and calling for Mason’s dumb ass dog. She ain’t sure where the dog has wandered off to and she needs to find her before Mason realizes his dog is missing or she’s gonna have a pissed off kid on her hands. 

She’s got a flashlight and her buck knife and she’s whistling for Molly-dog every few seconds. She’s not exactly sure where the fuck she is, but there are arrows on the wall that Glenn painted to show the way back to the cellblock so she ain’t that bothered by it. Wandering around looking for a dog in a fuckin’ prison isn’t really her idea of a good time, but she’s not inclined to losing anymore of her dogs, Lucy was enough. 

She turns down one hallway and finds Molly-dog chewing on what looks like a rabbit that’s been tied down to a board. Coretta ain’t sure where the fuck that came from and she don’t really care. She hisses sharply at Molly-dog to leave it and pulls her away by the collar. The dog whines and strains but gives up after a few seconds. Satisfied, Coretta starts back the way she came, dog in hand. 

Molly-dog starts losing her absolute shit halfway back to the hallway Coretta came in from and Coretta can hear the issue before the flashlight shows it and she wants to curse. Looks likes there’s a breach from one of the blocked off areas. The good thing about Molly-dog is she’s scared shitless of Walkers since the time her and Red nearly got ate along with Lucy and will reliably haul ass away from them if there ain’t a fence between her and them. Coretta manages to send the dog hauling ass down the right hallway and manages, barely, to follow her without one of the Walkers grabbing her. She’s running after Molly-dog and following Glenn’s arrows religiously as she hears the small herd following after at that ambling, speed walking pace Walkers have when they get all excited. 

The dog gets through the door to the rest of the prison first and Coretta following behind and slamming the doors shut as fast as she can. She leans her weight against the door and pants as she tries to form her thoughts. This ain’t good. 

“Hey! Sweet cheeks, why ya look like ya got hell chasin’ ya?” Merle’s booming voice shakes her out of her head as she feels the Walkers slam into the door. 

Coretta hits the door and grimaces, “Got a breach somewhere.”

Merle’s amusement is gone in an instant and he’s joining her by the door and raising the alarm immediately, “Right, Ya see how many?”

“Least fifteen? Didn’t really stop ta look,” She gives him an impatient look as Rick, Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, Jesse, and Sasha appear. Along with Michonne and some skinny lookin’ black guy she ain’t never seen before. Guess they picked up another stray. 

“Merle, get ready. Coretta, when I say, open the door and get back, got it?” Rick has his fuckin’ ax up and ready and the Crazypant’s look in his eyes. 

Merle moves away, “Let’s get this shit done, Officer friendly. How the hell is there a damn breach?”

“We’ll figure that out later. Coretta? Now!” Rick snaps it sharply. 

The weight of the Walkers on the door forces it open as soon as she starts to open it. There’s probably twenty instead of fifteen as they begin to pour in cans Coretta is cursing as she drives a knife into the base of one Walker’s skull. It’s nasty and brutal and fast as the group puts down the Walkers down. It’s maybe five minutes before the last walker goes down with Rick’a ax in its skull and Coretta is slamming the door closed again. 

“‘Retta! Y’know where the breach is?” Jesse is wiping the gore off the knife he’d been using and glaring irritably at the door to the tombs. 

“Not exactly but I can point y’all in the right direction,” Coretta thinks of the rabbit Molly-dog had been chewing on and figured she can find it easy enough. 

“Hell were ya doin’ in the fuckin’ tombs?” Daryl pulls one of his bolts out of a walker and gives her one of his annoyed looks. 

“Lookin’ for Molly-dog,” she points at the brown and white Pitbull as she sniffs one of the bodies, “Found her.”

“Good thing she was, now we know there’s a breach,” Maggie huffs and crosses her arms, “We need to go in and fix it.”

“We don’t have the supplies right now. It’s better if we just block any doors to the tombs off,” Michonne shakes her head at Maggie’s suggestion. 

“Sounds like a run is in order,” New guy points out. 

Coretta eyes him as she lights a cigarette, “Who are ya?”

He offers an awkward smile and steps forward to offer a handshake, “Bob, I was a combat medic.”

Coretta hums and shakes his hand once, “Ya gonna help Dr. S and Hershel out then?”

“He just got here, Coretta. Give him some time to settle in before we put him to work,” Glenn scolds lightly.

“Could always use more people who know how ta fix people, is all,” Coretta mutters and takes a drag from her cigarette as she eyes the newcomer. He looks kinda twitchy, but she chalks it up to being in a new situation and having a shitload of Walkers come at him. 

“Think the bigger problem is the fuckin’ hole in our defenses,” Merle drawls with a scowl. 

“I can make another run tomorrow? Take Daryl and the Zack kid that’s been begging to go,” Glenn offers with a glance at Daryl. He grunts an affirmation and pulls Molly-dog away from the bodies. 

“I’ll go too,” Michonne says it more than offers. No one is going to mention she hasn’t spent more than a night or at a time in the prison in months. 

“You already have a run planned in a week and you just got back,” Maggie counters as she turns to her man. Coretta thinks they’re calling each other husband and wife now, but she ain’t sure how that works in the apocalypse. 

“I can go,” Jesse drawls, “Used ta help with runs back in Woodbury.”

“In between kidnappin’ people?” Maggie snaps without hesitation. 

“I’d like ta remind ya, I did not do that part, Merle did,” Jesse glares balefully at the brunette. 

“You really want to get into the details, Claire?” Glenn counters. 

“Enough. Claire, go get whatever you need to block this door off for now. Glenn’s already plannin’ a run in a week. We can wait ‘til then. Coretta, get to watch. Everyone else, if you don’t have something you’re supposed to be doin’, help Claire,” Rick orders before Jesse gets into it with Glenn and Maggie again. 

Coretta rolls her eyes and heads to the showers first. Watch ain’t ‘til noon for her and she’s got at least an hour before then. She wants to wash the gore off and change before her watch. Ain’t no reason to smell like a corpse. 

Daryl catches up to her as she’s nearly to the bathroom, “Ya bit?”

Coretta rolls her eyes, “I’m ‘bout to shower, yer free ta join if ya wanna check me over.”

He makes a noise in his throat and mutters, “Just answer the damn question.”

“What? I thought it was a perfectly good idea,” Coretta’s lips twist into a sly grin. 

“Woman, yer gonna drive me up a damn wall,” he sounds like he can’t decide if he’s annoyed by that or not. 

Coretta pauses at the bathroom door and grins wider, “I ain’t bit. But the offer stands if ya wanna double check. ‘Sides, ya could use a shower too.”

Daryl chews his thumb as stares down at her like he’s genuinely considering it for a second before he shakes his head, “Outta yer damn mind, y’know that?”

She just offers a beaming smile in return before heading into the bathroom with a final parting shot, “If ya didn’t like it, ya wouldn’t talk ta me.”


	61. Chapter 61

Jesse gets the door to the tombs rigged so that Coretta thinks it may actually take an act of God to break it down. She’s not sure what prompts it, but word gets out about her moonshine and someone— she suspects James, but she’s not sure— decides that since everything’s been going so well, a party is in order. How the hell he got the council to give it the green light is beyond her. But now she’s being asked by James to donate to her ‘shine to the party and she’s not exactly thrilled by the thought. She’s already given Hershel and Dr. S two jars to use for sterilizing shit and she don’t like the idea of the whole prison that ain’t on watch being fucked up. Don’t sound like a good idea. She’d honestly rather give the rest to Jesse to burn for fun than have most of the adult population fucked up. 

“C’mon, Coretta, what’s a party without drinks?” James is smiling wide and cajoling at her as she smokes a cigarette and leans against a prison wall. 

“Said I’ll think ‘bout it, didn’t I? Take that as a fuckin’ win an’ leave me alone,” She snaps and blows smoke out. He’s been arguing with her for her to outright agree for two cigarettes now. She’s fuckin’ sick of it. 

“We don’t even need all of it. Moonshine is supposed to be strong, right?” James goes on. 

“Ya ever fuckin’ drink ‘shine? ‘Course it’s fuckin’ strong,” Coretta rolls her eyes and turns to leave, having had enough of this. She’s gonna go check with Hershel. He’s on the council. If they agreed to an alcohol fueled party, he’ll tell her. 

Then James makes the fuckin’ error of grabbing her goddamn arm, “So it’s fine?”

Coretta’s teeth grind and she contemplates putting her cigarette out on the hand around her arm seriously for a moment, “Get the fuck off me if ya want a goddamn chance of even smellin’ the ‘shine. I’m gotta clear that shit with the damn council. Ain’t gonna get my ass chewed out ‘cause yer a fuckin’ idiot.”

James lets her go and makes a face, “A few drinks won’t get you in trouble. Besides, we’re adults.”

Coretta don’t respond to that. It ain’t about being adults. It’s about not being fuckin’ dumbasses. She hardly ever touches her ‘shine and when she does it’s only a mouthful or two before going to bed. She don’t go trying to get fucked up in a damn apocalypse. She don’t particularly care to end up getting bit because she was too drunk to kill a walker. She just puts her cigarette back to her lips and walks off. She doubts her moonshine was mentioned in the council meeting. Knowing the council, they agreed to a small bonfire in one of the areas the walkers on the fence can’t see and extra food or something. 

She makes sure to put her cigarette out before going to take to Hershel. He don’t like the smoke and she don’t wanna piss him off. He’s checking on Rick’s pigs and managing it perfectly fine without a leg. She leans her elbows on the makeshift fence Rick built when they found the pigs and eyes the animals idly, “Hey, Hershel, what all got approved for this party thing tonight?”

Hershel doesn’t look up from where he’s checking on pig and takes his sweet time responding. When he does, it’s in the same slow, calm tone he always uses, “I believe there’ll be food and music.”

“This a dry event?” Coretta questions. If he says yes, she ain’t about to be sharing her ‘shine. She don’t need him giving her his disapproving looks. 

Hershel gives her one of his looks. That fatherly indulgence mixed with disapproval look she’s only ever seen him manage to give anyone, “If an adult has alcohol and wants to drink it, there’s no reason they can’t. Though, I do suggest limiting your consumption.”

That’s how Coretta ends up parting with four jars of her remaining nine jars that Jesse has to damn near pry out of her hands when she hands them over. She ain’t thrilled to be doing it, but everyone needs a night to unwind and Rick and Michonne are handling watch for the night, something Coretta privately thinks is the council’s poor attempt at keeping Michonne from taking off again in the morning. Jesse promises her cigarettes and coffee if he can find them when he goes on a run when he takes in her irritated look at parting with more of Wade’s moonshine. 

The kids are running around the area that’s been set up for the little party and they’re all wired on whatever sugar they’ve managed to scrap up. She’s right, there is a little bonfire in the middle of the ground chosen for this and someone found a radio with full batteries and a shit load of cds and there’s music, not very loud, just loud enough to enjoy.Food too, Carol cooked a lot of it. She can tell. Carol is the best damn cook they have. There’s shitty lemonade too, the kind that’s made by that mixing those little tubes of powder into water and Coretta can taste the shine when she takes one and grimaces. One or two glasses will have most of the people here fucked up. Either James underestimated how strong her moonshine is or Jesse decided to pour the drinks out and made them the strength he likes for a mixed drink. Hard to tell, really. 

Carol seems to have put herself in charge of shooing the teenagers away from the drinks with a sweet smile and a sharp warning. Merle is talking loud as can be to James and the new guy, Bob. Tyreese and Karen talking to David and Sasha. Coretta can see Lizzie and Mika’s daddy talking to Hershel. Dr. S is telling Meridith about the work he did before shit went to hell. Jesse has managed to get Hannah to let him spin her around like it’s a club instead of a prison party as the music plays. She’s beaming up at Coretta’s brother and she can’t tell what he’s saying to the redhead but she knows it’s something slick. Maggie and Glenn have pretty much moved in by the food and Beth and Zack keep trying to sneak off. 

Coretta has found a quiet place to relax and just people watch. She’s content with that. Ain’t in the mood for a lot of people, but she wasn’t inclined to missing the only party they’ve ever had either. So she’s got a cigarette and her cup of moonshine with some shitty lemonade in it and she’s watching the kids running wild and the adults unwind and she’s content enough. 

James comes over and she can tell immediately that he can’t hold his liquor. The man is staggering a little and he’s got that stupid look on his face only the really drunk seem capable of. He’s slurring when he speaks, “Coretta! You’re a fuckin’ godsend, you know that? I owe you big time for sharing your drinks.”

Coretta offers a thin smile and flicks ash off the end her cigarette, “Ain’t nothin’.”

“No, really, you’re fuckin’ awesome. What’re you doing all alone? C’mon, got a whole fuckin’ party,” He tries to grab her hand to pull her to her feet from where she’s sitting but she jerks her hand back before he can. 

“I’m happy where I’m at, thank ya,” She narrows her eyes at him warily, “Think I hear Merle callin’ ya. Should go see what he wants.”

James squints like he suddenly don’t understand plain fuckin’ English, “I don’t hear anything.”

“I sure did. Go see what he wants,” Coretta pushes and puts he cigarette to her lips to take a drag. 

“In a minute. You’re really a beautiful woman, you know that? Like shit, I know you got kids and all, but I don’t get why you don’t have a man. But damn, if you’d let me, I’d love to repay that favor you did giving me the shine,” He gives her a smile that’s probably supposed to be flirty, but just looks drunk and stupid. 

“Excuse me?” Coretta narrows her eyes and blows smoke directly in his face out of spite. 

“You heard me, we can have a damn good time, just the two of us,” He’s leaning over her now and she’s leaning away. 

“Ya threw a real nice fuckin’ party. Don’t fuckin’ ruin it,” She hisses in irritation. She don’t like this shit one bit. 

He tries to touch her again and on instinct the hand she has resting beside her drink flashes out and slaps his hand away hard. He jerks back and glares, “What the fuck?”

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” She snaps. She knows if this idiot doesn’t back off and Jesse notices, her brother is liable to murder a man tonight. She’d rather not have to beg the council to let him stick around. 

James’ pretty face twists into something ugly, “Fine, just tryin’ to be nice, bitch.”

Coretta keeps glaring at his back as he staggers off and she’s had enough of the party already. She checks her boys and makes sure they know when Carol tells Sophia to go to bed, they have to too. Satisfied they’re going to listen and sick of the party, she heads back to the cellblock, a fresh cigarette dangling from her lips and the dogs ambling along beside her. Daryl’s the only one in the cellblock and Judith is fast asleep in the crib Rick found for his daughter. Coretta doesn’t think before joining him up in his perch.

“Ain’t at the party?” He raises an eyebrow as he works on his crossbow. 

“Nah. Sucks ass. James sucks at throwin’ parties. Cig?” Coretta settles down against the wall beside him and offers him her pack. 

He takes one with a muttered thanks, “Wasted yer shine on a shitty party.”

“Ain’t like I been drinkin’ it. Why ain’t ya down there gettin’ fucked up?” Coretta leans her head back and blows smoke into the air. 

“Ain’t lookin’ ta be a fuckin’ idiot tonight,” He sets his crossbow aside as he finishes working on it and stretches his legs out in front of him. 

She hums, “Think ya’d still be smarter drunk than half them assholes sober.”

“Yer always thinkin’,” He retorts as smoke falls from his mouth. 

She offers a lazy grin, “Can think of one thing that makes me stop thinkin’.”

He’s quiet for a minute and he’s eyeing the cigarette in his hand when he finally drawls, “That so?”

Coretta perks up a little, that’s new. She nods a little, “Sure, darlin’. Bit of a two person job, y’know? Ain’t quite as fun alone.”

Daryl takes a long drag from his cigarette before setting it in the ashtray that he got awhile back. He holds the smoke in for longer than usual before exhaling it and his hand tugs lightly on her hip, “C’mere then.”

Coretta is mildly floored as she allows him to pull her onto his lap to straddle his hips. She ain’t exactly sure what she’s supposed to say now. She’s gotten used to flirting with nothing to show for it and she ain’t sure what changed, but she don’t question it. Just settles in his lap and shifts her hips experimentally. Her hands don’t touch him and she’s still got her cigarette dangling from her lips as she works to process this change. 

In the low light, his blue eyes look black and he lets her take one more drag of her cigarette before he plucks it from her mouth and puts it in the ashtray too. He watches her with narrowed eyes as she tilts her head back and blows the smoke out towards the ceiling. She freezes a bit like a deer in headlights when she feels one callused hand work its way into her hair to tug her down more gently than she expected. Kissing Daryl is good. She decides that real quick as her mouth meets his. He ain’t perfect at it, but he’s good, definitely got experience. Tastes like cigarettes, something that would bother her if she didn’t know her mouth tastes the same way. He’s got a hand on her hip that’s squeezing tight and her hands are braced on his chest. The kiss deepens fast and then he’s kissing her like he’s testing her. Like he’s daring her to stop as he kisses her harder. Coretta don’t even consider it, just presses her hips down where she can feel his cock getting hard and rolls them hard against him. She grins against his mouth as his hand tightens on her hip and the one in her hair pulls enough to make her break the kiss. 

He’s got that animal look in his eyes again when she looks at him and he’s breathing hard, “Shirt off, woman.”

Coretta ain’t got a clue what made him change his mind, but she’ll figure that out later. For now, she just offers him a breathless smile and obeys. Party might have been a damn bust, but she’s a lot fuckin’ happier with how her night is going now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy valentines!
> 
> So y’all want a sex scene or should I keep those in my drafts?


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all asked for the sex scene, enjoy ;)

Her shirt comes off and Daryl’s mouth is on her neck and his hands are on her back and pulling her tighter to his chest. Coretta rolls her hips again and her hands end up splayed around the back of his neck and she wants everything he’s got to give. She wants to give it all back too. So she lets go of his neck and pushes back enough that he has to break from the line he’s mouthing down her neck, his scruffy stubble probably leaving red patches on her neck. He starts to say something, but she just presses her own kisses to his neck, nipping her own trail up and down his neck while her hands work their way down to the bottom of his shirt and tug up impatiently. It’s only fair, she thinks distantly, if she’s in just her worn bra, he shouldn’t be dressed either. Though she has a momentary image of him in just his angel wings and decides she’d be thrilled to revisit that later. She’s not expecting his hands to grab her wrists and pull them away. She tenses out of habit and pulls back to look at him. Without her shirt on, she knows he can feel the dips in her skin where her daddy put a cigarette to her. He don’t even glance down though, just keeps his eyes on her face. 

“Nah, stays on,” He says it roughly and doesn’t let go until she nods her agreement. 

As soon as she does, he’s pulling her back for a searing kiss and his hands palm her breasts through her bra and when one of his hands slips inside the cup and his fingers pinch her nipple carefully, like he’s trying to figure out what she likes as he goes. Coretta makes a low whining noise in the back of her throat when he tweaks her nipple a little harder and presses down on his erection without a second thought. 

Her hands work their way under his shirt and that he allows. She can feel the muscles in his stomach flex as her fingers run up to his chest and then flex again when she drags her nails lightly down to the waistband of his jeans. Coretta’s fingers work on undoing his belt without a single conscious thought from her and he lets her, shifting his hips to allow her better access. 

She feels one of his hands slide around her back to undo her bra in a move that feels practiced, but it works and she’s letting it fall down her arms and tossing it on top of her discarded shirt. She’s working on getting his pants unzipped and making small, gasping noises when his mouth goes to one of her breasts and he grazes her nipple with his teeth. He raises his hips and pauses what he’s doing to help her pull them down enough that she can get to what she wants. 

His mouth goes to her other breast while she palms him through his boxer briefs. Coretta hasn’t done this in awhile, but she remembers the motions perfectly well. Figures her gag reflex ain’t any worse than it used to be so she don’t really think as she works his underwear down and grips his cock. Works her hand up and down it for awhile while she enjoys his mouth on her. It ain’t so much that she enjoys having a dick in her mouth, as it is that she wants to make him feel good combined with the fact she likes knowing she can make a man come apart at the seams. A power trip, Wade would call it. She shimmies back so that he has to let her go and braces one hand on the ground by his hip and leans down. Daryl goes tense when she runs her tongue down the underside of his cock and his hand knots itself tight in her hair. She does that twice before fixing her lips over the head of his cock and working her mouth down slowly to get used to it again. 

“Christ, Coretta. Ya ain’t gotta do this shit,” Daryl’s voice is all gravel and tension and even though he’s saying that, she can feel his hand tighten in her hair and knows he don’t want her to stop. 

She doesn’t stop, just hollows her cheeks and bobs her head a little faster, going until she feels her gag reflex kick in and she has to swallow around his cock. Without anything to occupy his mouth, there’s a steady stream of curse words flowing out of him in a low, strained tone. His hips are lifting a little in small thrusts as she keeps going until he pulls her hair to make her stop. 

She runs her tongue over her lips and raises an eyebrow as she sits back up and replaces her mouth with her hand. In the low light, Daryl’s pupils seem to consume any of the blue in his eyes as he breathes harshly and growls out, “Ya wanna make this last, gotta quit that shit.”

She grins slow and sly, “Yes, sir.”

She can practically hear his teeth grinding as his jaws works when he hears that. His hands are yanking at her pants before she can so much as blink and she has to get off his lap for a moment to pull them off. Her panties come off too and she doesn’t think about how she’s naked in front of a man for the first time in over a year, just gets back on his lap and rolls her hips again in a heartbeat. She lets out a soft sigh as she manages to catch her clit on the head of his cock as she grinds slowly and steady on his cock. Daryl’s hands are bruising on her hips and he seems content to let her use his cock as a sex toy for the moment. His eyes are are watching her face like he’s trying to commit every expression and sound she makes to detailed memory. 

She can feel herself getting slicker and then one of his hands is between her legs and two fingers are sliding into her while his thumb pressed onto her clit and her head tips back and she grinds down onto his hand. His other hand is squeezing one of her ass cheeks. Then he’s leaning forward again and she can feel his teeth grazing her throat as his fingers continue moving in and out of her and curling inside of her and she’s trying to be quiet, she really is but the one time she closes her mouth and stops the small noises she’s making, he stops moving his hand entirely and she gets the message quickly enough. 

His thumb is rubbing fast, hard circles on her clit and his fingers keep pumping in and out of her and she can feel pleasure coiling low in her stomach as she clenches around his fingers. Her hands are tangled in his shirt and her head is hanging by his as he nips and sucks on collar bone and shoulders and she’s making little, breathy moans in his ear. 

If he stops what he’s doing she’s going to lose her goddamn mind and she’s speaking without thinking, “More, fuck, Daryl, don’t fuckin’ stop. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

She can feel him huff a laugh into her shoulder as she half pleads half demands him to keep doing what he’s doing, “Ain’t gonna stop, woman. Not ‘til yer comin’ all over my hand, ya hear me?”

She’s panting in his ear and her hips are jerking and she can feel the tension in her core intensify as he keeps dragging her closer to the edge. His cock is against the inside of her thigh and she wants it inside of her as badly as she wants to come and it’s been so fuckin’ long and she’s going to lose her fuckin’ mind if she doesn’t come soon. When the tension in her core finally releases her whole body jerks violently and her toes curl as her legs shake under her. Daryl keeps fucking her with his fingers and rubbing her clit as she rides out her orgasm and he has to use his other hand to muffle the high, keening noise that tears out of her mouth. 

“Fuck, much as l like hearin’ ya sing for me, yer gonna wake Asskicker if yer any louder,” he growls it into her ear and his hand tightens warningly over her mouth and chin, the calluses in them rough against her skin. 

He doesn’t let her mouth go until she’s ridden out the aftershocks of her orgasm too and she’s relaxed against his chest and one of her hands wraps around the wrist of the hand still between her legs and tries to pull it away because it’s too much and she wants his cock in her now. When the hand on her mouth moves, she outright demands, “Condom. Now.”

If he doesn’t have a condom and has to go get one, Coretta is going to be fuckin’ pissed. She doesn’t want to have to wait for him to go get one. She has her face pressed into the leather of his vest covering his shoulder and she can feel him stretch to reach for what she hopes is a condom. She can hear him fumbling for it for a moment and her hand lazily starts pumping up and down his cock as she waits for him to find it. She can hear him curse low under his breath as she does and the hand between her legs withdrawals. There’s the crinkle of foil and a tearing sound before he’s pushing her hand away and she watches as he rolls the condom down his cock. 

As soon as it’s on, his hands are on her hips and she’s gripping the base of his cock to guide it into her. She slides down slowly, adjusting to the feel of him in her and exhales slowly at the feeling of stretching around him. He hisses a breath out as she lowers herself until she’s seated at the base of his cock. When she looks at his face his jaw is clenched as tight as his hands on her hips are and his eyes are flicking between her face and where they’re connected, he breathes more than says, “So goddamn tight. Jesus.”

She offers him a small, pleased grin and sets a slow pace as much to get used to it again as to watch the way he looks like he’s struggling to restrain himself from taking over. She keeps that slow pace even as he starts moving his hips up to meet her with every thrust. Keeps it until one of his hands moves to the small of her back and the other to the back of her head and he’s flipping her onto her back to take over. He hikes her legs around his waist and sets a brutal pace. He pulls one of her hands down between her legs and presses her fingers against her clit for her before letting go and his hand up to knead her breast. He’s covering her entirely with his body and his mouth is on hers and he’s swallowing every noise she makes with every hard thrust he makes into her. 

The hand she has between her legs works on her clit as her free hand drags her nails up his neck to twist into his hair. He’s fucking her like he wants to make walking impossible and she knows she’s going to be sore in the morning and she could not care less. Her back arches every time he buries himself in her completely and her hand works fast as she tries to come again. She doesn’t really care if she manages it again, truth be told, she’s always struggled to get off during sex no matter how good the sex is. And this is good sex. 

His thrusts pick up pace and his hand moves from her breast back to her hip and she knows there’s going to be finger shaped bruises on her hip in the morning. He stops kissing her to bury his face in the crook of her neck and she can feel him bite down harshly as his rhythm becomes broken and stuttering. He pushes into her one more time, as hard and deep as he can, and she can feel his cock jerk inside of her as he comes. 

He collapses on top of her and pants into her neck as they both come back down to earth. She lets her legs fall limply from where she kept them crossed over his hips as she withdrawals her hand from her clit. Her other hand untangles from his hair and she runs her fingers through it lazily as she tries to catch her breath. 

After a moment, he pulls out of her and rolls off to lie on his back beside her. Coretta stretches languidly and grins a Cheshire grin as she watches his chest rise and fall rapidly. She sore and satiated and very, very relaxed. Daryl is pulling his pants back on without getting up and she watches him pull her cigarette pack out of her discarded jeans and pull two new cigarettes out, the ones in the ashtray having burnt out sometime while they were busy. He puts one to his mouth and lights it before putting the second to her lips and lighting it for her. 

They don’t talk for awhile, both just smoking and relaxing in the post sex haze. They don’t really cuddle, but when she rolls over and rests her elbows on his chest— the hand holding her cigarette dangling lazily off his shoulder— to lean in for a kiss, the hand that’s free comes up to curl around her waist and pulls her tighter against him. It’s a lazy kiss, a slow one, neither has the energy to really make it more than that. 

Daryl squints at her and his drawl is even slower than usual when he speaks, “Yer brother gonna try ta murder me if ya stay here tonight?”

Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette and grins as she blows it towards the wall, “Only if he has ta listen.”

He grunts and his lips twitch like he wants to smile before they twist into a grimace, “Ya sure this what ya want?”

Coretta kisses him chastely on the lips and gives him a small smile, “Been sure for awhile now, Dixon. Ain’t my fault it took ya so long ta catch on.”

That gets a huff from him, “Gonna freeze yer ass off like this.”

“Good thing I got ya here then, ain’t it?” She counters lazily, entirely unconcerned by the prospect. The man is a goddamn space heater and there’s plenty of ways to keep warm in the middle of a Georgia summer. She ain’t that worried about being cold for once. 


	63. Chapter 63

In the morning, there are bruises where Daryl’s fingers had gripped her hips and she has a bruise from where he bit her on the crook of her neck when he came and she doesn’t mind any of it. Her clothes keep all that covered but Daryl eyes the marks like he can’t decide if he hates that he left them or if he wants to leave more. It’s early and Coretta’s still a bit sore, but she’s also fuckin’ starving and has shit to get done so she makes herself get up and dressed. Daryl is up too and getting ready to go hunt. She’d be going too, but she’s on morning watch and gate duty after breakfast. 

She’s pulling her hair up and tying it into the messy bun she’d perfected when Mason was a baby who liked to yank her hair and heading down from the perch with Daryl behind her only to be greeted by Mason staring narrow eyed at them with Molly-dog at his side. 

“Mornin’, baby, everythin’ alright?” Coretta feels like her baby is scrutinizing them and she can hear Daryl shifting awkwardly behind her. 

His bright blue eyes just flick from her to Daryl before he asks real innocently, “So this mean I got an Uncle Merle now?”

Daryl is audibly choking behind her and Coretta laughs a little, because she knows no matter what she says, Merle isn’t getting out of that moniker, “Why ya think that?”

“Ya slept in Daryl’s room. Like ya did with Daddy. So that means I got an Uncle Merle now,” He says it simply. Like Coretta is the idiot for not realizing that. 

Coretta isn’t sure how to respond to that, because she knows her baby kinda knows what sex is because he knows how animals make babies from seeing stray dogs around the trailer park doing that. But she also hasn’t had the talk with him yet and ain’t sure at this point how or when she wants that discussion so she just ruffles his hair, “Wake Keston up and we’ll go see what’s for breakfast.”

Mason just eyes Daryl and says as calm as he once yelled it, “Ya hurt my momma, I’m gonna kill ya.”

Daryl finds his voice enough to drawl back, “Ain’t gonna hurt her, kid.”

Mason nods once, tugs Molly-dog’s worn out collar and starts hollering at Keston as he goes to get his brother. Coretta pauses to wait for them and Daryl hefts his crossbow higher on his shoulder and looks at her, “Merle is gonna have a damn heart attack if yer boys start callin’ him that.”

“If he’s done in by two little kids, the world’s gonna end a second time,” She counters as she listens to her boys bickering in their cell. Sounds like Keston don’t wanna get up. 

Eventually though, Keston comes out with Red ambling along behind him with Mason and Molly-dog. Her littlest baby’s hair is sticking up in every direction and he’s yawning big as he tries to talk, “Mornin’, Momma! Mornin’, Daryl!”

“Mornin’, Kes, ya hungry?” Coretta tries to smooth his hair down and it just sticks back up again. 

“Yeah, Can I ask Maggie ta teach me ta ride the horses? Looks like fun,” Keston is clearly not awake enough to beg her hard for it, but his big brown eyes are already wide and puppy-like as he starts gearing up to plead. 

Daryl snorts as he starts down the stairs, careful of the dogs running down them and Mason just behind his heels. Coretta makes sure Keston is holding the railing as she follows and considers his question. She can see the appeal of him being able to ride a horse. Knows Maggie, if she agrees, would make sure he wouldn’t get fuckin’ killed by one of the huge animals. Coretta answers carefully, “If Maggie agrees, I don’t mind, but ya gotta do everything she tells ya, understand?”

Keston gives her a sleepy smile, “Yes, Momma, promise I will.”

Coretta knows he will or she’ll be hearing about it from Maggie if the younger woman agrees to do it, “If she says no, ya don’t be beggin’, hear me? She’s a busy woman.”

Keston pouts but nods. Her baby knows he’s got a good puppy dog face and likes using it, so of course he’d be unhappy with being told not to use it, “When we gonna eat the pigs? I miss bacon.”

Coretta misses bacon too, and those pigs have everyone looking forward to pork at some point, “When Hershel and Rick decide the pigs are big enough.”

Daryl breaks off from them with a quick glance towards her to go talk to Rick as she lets Mason and the dogs lead the way to the outdoor kitchen. Keston has his shoes on the wrong feet, but it’s too early for Coretta to feel like fixing that right this instant. After food. 

Coretta smiles tiredly at Hannah, the woman is always working the kitchen in the mornings. Apparently she has trouble going to sleep and staying asleep, so she’s taken over breakfast. Coretta remembers she mentioned that over laundry once. She hands her boys their plates, looks like some kinda stew, and makes them both say thank you to the woman. Coretta mutters her own thank you and tries to ignore the hickey the other woman is sporting unabashedly. She don’t need to know what Jesse got up to last night. Ain’t something she needs to know about. 

They set up at one of the tables and Coretta watches as more people file out of the prison and the days starts up as slow as it always does. The dogs are going from person to person begging for scraps and Coretta listens with half an ear as both her boys chatter to her about every single thought that crosses their minds. 

Jesse comes slinking out of the prison and Coretta watches her brother blow Hannah a kiss as she hands him a plate. Coretta has never been able to understand how her brother, who has more issues than a newspaper, is able to act like that without the slightest trouble. Jesse takes a seat beside Coretta and grins at her boys as he takes a bite of the morning stew, “Mornin’, Brats. Lookin’ a bit tired, ‘Retta.”

Coretta snorts, “It’s barely sunrise, ‘Course I’m tired.”

“We got a new uncle,” Mason declares, looking at Jesse seriously. 

Jesse raises an eyebrow at that, “Yeah? How’d that happen?”

“Momma stayed with Daryl an’ Mason says that means Merle is our uncle now,” Keston says it in the middle of chewing. 

“Ain’t quite how that works, an’ don’t speak while yer chewin’, baby, don’t need ya chokin’,” Coretta chides. 

Jesse is outright cackling now as he turns his head to look at her, “So how does it work these days, ‘Retta?”

“Not like that,” Coretta mutters. 

“Still callin’ him ‘Uncle Merle’,” Mason declares, “He’s fun ta mess with. He says lots of new words.”

Coretta closes her eyes and tries not to think about the phrases her son is probably picking up from the crude man. He learned enough from Jesse and Wade. She’d prefer he not increase his vocabulary, “Why don’t ya see if Hershel needs any help from ya today? Maybe him or Dr. S can teach ya some stuff.”

“Like what?” Mason tilts his head. 

“I dunno, doctor stuff. Might be helpful if Keston’s gonna run off an’ be a cowboy,” Coretta shrugs. She’s gonna have to go interrogate Merle about the shit he says around Mason apparently and would prefer Mason learn something useful while she does it. They ain’t got enough people to spare for a makeshift school or enough kids to justify it, so they gotta teach them useful shit by sticking them with whoever can teach it and has the time to. 

Mason swallows such a huge bite of food she swears his damn jaw unhinges like a fuckin’ snake to do it and nods, “Think they’ll let me cut people open?”

Jesse grins, “Think that’s the second lesson.”

Coretta just sighs and keeps eating. It’s early and she’s sore and would rather be sleeping still, but she’s got shit to do and it’s too early. If her baby learns surgery so be it. She’s too tired to care that much, so long as her kids are happy and healthy and not causing problems, she ain’t worried. 

When her watch comes around, she’s a little more awake and she’s stuck with Merle as her watch partner until noon. Which means she gets to spend her morning contemplating if she’d prefer to throw him off the watch tower or swan dive off it herself. She has a rifle beside her and a cigarette dangling from her lips and she’s trying to ignore the man’s talking. Even Wade didn’t go on as much as he does. She lets her legs dangle over the side of the tower and has her arms wrapped around the railing posts and when he starts on about Glenn and Maggie she gives him a flat stare, “Have ya ever tried sayin’ sorry an’ _meanin’_ it? Pretty sure ya tortured ‘em.”

Merle stops his pacing and his bitching to glare down at her like she’s the one who did the torturing, “Shit happened. Bet that brother of yers ain’t tell ya how he helped with it.”

Coretta can take a guess or two. He learned from their daddy, same as she did. And he likes fire a whole lot more than her. She shrugs and blows smoke out, “That’s between him, Maggie, and Glenn. I don’t care for details.”

“Well how ‘bout I tell ya some anyway?” Merle asks meanly, then doesn’t wait for her answer, “That psycho brother of yers? He was gonna burn that Chinese kid’s hand off, looked real excited ta do it too.”

“How many times ya been told that Glenn’s Korean?” Coretta doesn’t react to what he tells her about Jesse. Jesse can be unpredictable. She wouldn’t be shocked in the least if he actually would’ve done it. No wonder Glenn and Maggie are still pissed. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Merle waves his hand like he’s swatting a fly, “Y’know how he ended up comin’ with us?”

“How?” Coretta sighs, resigned to the fact she’s stuck with Merle for the next few hours. 

“Dropped a Molotov cocktail right in the middle of a crowd. Probably burnt a few poor fucks alive. Still ain’t sure why he helped though,” Merle sounds genuinely confused on that, “Ain’t like he knew ya were here ‘til after.”

Coretta just takes a drag and holds it in for a second before exhaling and saying, “Probably got bored. Maybe felt like sowin’ chaos. He’s just that way. Can’t find trouble, he’ll make it.”

“Seems pretty tame nowadays,” Merle drawls. 

“He’s bangin’ the redhead. He ain’t lookin’ ta fuck that up yet,” She says flippantly. 

“Speakin’ of bumpin’ uglies,” Merle’s voice takes on a lewd tone and Coretta wonders if she could get away with pushing him off the watch tower, “Saw ya come outta my baby brother’s little nest. Ya give Darylina a good time, sweet cheeks? Spend the night rubbin’ all up on him?”

Coretta tilts her head and meets his gaze, “Sure did, sweetheart. Why? Ya jealous ‘cause without yer little blue pills ya can’t do nothin’?”

That gets a scowl and she mentally scores herself a point. He points at her like he’s trying to drive what he’s saying home, “Now listen here, Sweet cheeks, Ol’ Merle ain’t never need no little blue pills an’ ya can’t take that straight ta the damn bank.”

She laughs a little at the offense in his tone, “Don’t think ya need the embarrassment of a check bouncin’.”

Merle crouches down beside her and he’s got a cold, calculating look in his eyes, “Be honest now, little widow, when ya were lettin’ my baby brother fuck ya, were ya picturin’ that dead husband of yers? Y’know, the one ya stabbed in the head an’ had Claire burn up with yer old trailer?”

Coretta doesn’t let herself react. She’s heard far worse from people who were far better at firing shots at her, “No. Why? Hopin’ ta meet someone else with a thing for the dead so ya can trade stories?”

He whistles low, “Yer a real bitch, ain’t ya? Got a damn mouth on ya. My baby brother goes for the sweet ones normally, ain’t sure how ya didn’t chase him off.”

“If it helps, I accused him of bein’ a child molester first time I saw him,” She offers, “Think I grew on him.”

“Told ya before ta keep yer distance. Don’t need ya fuckin’ his head up. Already plays daddy ta those boys. Don’t think I ain’t notice. Gonna get him killed, y’all are. Lettin’ him get all attached,” Merle stands back up and he spits once over the side of the watch tower, a scowl on his face. 

Coretta just takes another drag from her cigarette, “Merle, I’m gonna be honest, if this is some kinda shovel talk, ya ain’t doin’ a real good job.”

“Sweet cheeks, if this was a shovel talk, I’d’ve already dug ya a grave. That boy of yers told me all ‘bout how y’all were holed up in some shack for months, just y’all. Yer a cold bitch from what I’ve seen of ya. Bet yer the type ta leave a baby ta die if it meant savin’ yer skin,” Merle says it in that odd light way of his that’s somehow worse than his yelling. 

Coretta shrugs, “My babies comes first.”

“See, I get that, I do. Yer a momma, an’ a mean one at that. Like one of them feral momma cats. So I’m just wonderin’ if ya got any limits when it comes ta them,” Merle keeps going, “What wouldn’t ya do for ‘em?”

Coretta stares up at him and answers simply, “Nothin’. So long as Daryl ain’t a threat ta my babies, ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout if I’m a threat ta him.”

Merle bobs his head at that and rubs his jaw, “So that’s how it is. Alright, Sweet cheeks, alright. Ya get my brother killed though? Ya best do yerself a favor an’ _run.”_

Coretta just takes a drag of her cigarette and turns her gaze back to watching the walkers on the fence. See how long he can talk to himself before getting bored. Maybe he’ll shut up eventually if she don’t respond. How Mason likes bothering the man is a damn mystery to her. 


	64. Chapter 64

It’s two more days of spending her nights in Daryl’s perch and using her cell mainly to change and nap in while life goes on as normal before James either gets stupid enough or brave enough to approach her again. She’s got the afternoon off after spending all morning stabbing corpses at the fence and Mason is trailing after Dr. S while Keston is bouncing along on a horse under Maggie’s watchful eye. She’s busy cleaning her cell and her boys’ cell and contemplating dragging the dogs into the showers and washing them, because Red smells like he rolled in a dead skunk and Molly-dog found a mud puddle to play in. 

She’s finishing making Keston’s bed when the curtain pushes aside and James is blocking her way out. Coretta straightens from where she’s bent over the bunk and touches her buck knife on her hip to remind herself and him that she’s able to defend herself, “Ever heard of knockin’?”

James offers her the same pretty smile from when he first introduced himself and she’d be fooled if he hadn’t acted the way he had drunk, “Just wanted to talk, you know? Clear the air.”

Coretta’s eyebrow raises and her lips thin. Clear the air her ass. Her voice is cold when she speaks, “Nah. Think I’m good.”

James’ smile falters and there’s a shadow of the ugly look he’d given her that night, “No, really, I think we need to talk.”

Coretta sets her jaw and raises her chin, “‘Bout what? How ya ain’t gettin’ the hint that I don’t want shit ta do with ya?”

“Look, I got carried away and I’d been drinking and people do stupid shit when they’re drunk, you know? You can’t really be pissed about something someone says drunk. I wasn’t trying to hurt you or anything. Really,” James takes a step into the cell and Coretta narrows her eyes. 

“Nah. Ain’t how it works. Leave me the fuck alone,” She snarls it. Her daddy had had his moments of sweet too. When he was sober, he could almost pass for a decent dad. Almost. Always was just short of average. 

James doesn’t leave. His smile fades and he looks angry, “Look, I don’t get what your problem is, I’ve been nice to you. So I got drunk and said a few things. I didn’t hurt you.”

Coretta’s not sure if he’s just an idiot or what, but she doesn’t like him one bit, doesn’t like how he’s acting like it was nothing, “Get out.”

“Not until you listen! Damn, I’m trying here. I _really_ am. I’m a nice guy, a good person. I wouldn’t’ve hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about. Really, you’re overreacting,” James’ voice raises for a second before it drops back to his normal volume. 

“I ain’t gotta listen ta yer bullshit. Get the fuck out,” Coretta’s voice raises enough that she hears Molly-dog and Red bark uncertainly outside the cell. 

“Why won’t you listen?” James sounds frustrated and confused and he steps towards her again, pausing only when she pulls her knife out, “Really? Gonna pull a knife on me? That’s how it’s gonna be?”

Coretta narrows her eyes and her hand tights on the grip of her knife. She don’t like that he’s acting like this now that she’s seen who he is. Good people don’t need to beg to be considered good people. Her voice is lower than ever as she grinds out, “Yeah, that’s exactly how it’s gonna be.”

“Quit being a fucking cunt, I’m—“ He’s cut off abruptly by the cell door opening all the way and the curtain being damn near ripped away. 

Daryl is standing there, still bloody from bringing back and skinning whatever he found on his hunt, and he looks pissed as he takes in the scene before him, “Fuck is goin’ on here?”

Coretta can see his eyes flick to the knife in her hand and James starts trying to explain it away, but she speaks over him, “Asshole don’t know what it means when a girl tells him ta leave her the fuck alone.”

James is talking fast as Daryl’s jaw works and he’s got the same look he had when he was beating Randall silly. Except then it was more of a clinical beating mixed with fury. This is all fuckin’ rage. He’s in James’ face before she can say anything else and his hands are fisted in the idiot’s shirt as he slams him against a wall, “That true, asshole? Ya messin’ with my woman?”

Coretta would be a liar if she said hearing him say it like that, all rumbling and growling, didn’t do something to her. As it is, she’s more focused on James as he stutters out, “Didn’t know she was yours, man. Swear, I was just talking to her!”

Daryl slams him against the wall harder before swinging him towards the cell door and throwing him out, “That why she had her fuckin’ knife out? ‘Cause ya were just fuckin’ _talkin’?”_

Daryl is right in his face the moment James staggers to his feet and Coretta moves forward to watch with something like fascination mixing with her irritation. She thinks if James was smart enough to tuck tail and run, this wouldn’t end the way she thinks it’s gonna head. Instead, James is an idiot. He gives up acting confused and like he ain’t in the wrong and shoves Daryl hard, that same ugly look on his face as before. It’s a mistake on his part, because Daryl is a damn brawler. He’s got him on the floor and doing his level best to knock his teeth out in the time it takes James to try and form a fist. It’s clear James ain’t much of a fighter. There’s a reason he don’t go on runs. A reason he stays in the prison and does the safe jobs. A pretty face ain’t gonna save someone in a fight. And James ain’t gonna have a pretty face by the time Daryl is done with him. He manages exactly one good hit to Daryl’s jaw and is rewarded by two in quick succession to his face. 

Coretta ain’t really sure if she’s supposed to be doing something. She ain’t never been one of those bitches who tries and gets guys to break it up. Always thought that was a bit stupid. She prefers to just let them work it out on their own instead of risking a hit of her own. She guesses the noises finally attracts attention to what’s happening and Rick and Merle are coming up the stairs. Merle looks like he’s got half a mind to help Daryl kill the idiot and ask why later, but a sharp order from Rick has him pulling Daryl up and off James like Daryl isn’t a grown ass man hellbent on putting a dumbass in the ground. 

“Easy, baby brother, gonna kill him,” Merle is laughing even as Daryl shakes him off with a curse and his eyes stay zeroed in on James. 

“What the hell is goin’ on here?” Rick demands looking between Coretta, James, and Daryl.

Daryl just grunts and keeps glaring at James as the other man staggers to his feet. James’ face is a bloody mess and he spits blood and what looks like a piece of a tooth out, “He fucking attacked me! I was just talking to Coretta and he just came in and fucking attacked me!”

Rick looks at her, “That what happened?”

“Nah. He came in the cell an’ wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone, actin’ all weird and shit. Was actin’ like a dick at the party too,” She admits and winces internally at the way Daryl looks like he’s about to give James an encore. 

Rick pinches the bridge of his nose and curses, “O’Malley, get the fuck out of here and stay away from Coretta. Daryl, just, _fuck,_ don’t kill anybody. Coretta, if someone is giving you problems tell the goddamn council before it gets to this.”

Rick practically drags James down the stairs and away and Coretta’s left with a bloody and pissed off Daryl and his asshole brother. Merle is still crowing and cackling over Daryl beating James into the ground and doesn’t stop until Daryl snarls, “Man, fuck off.”

Merle does, his laughter still echoing off the fuckin’ walls as he goes and Coretta slips her knife back into its sheath and tries to break the tension, “So, I’m your woman?”

Daryl’s eyes are dark and he’s still clearly pissed, “Hell ya think?”

Coretta hums and lets him pull her into her own cell by the wrist and pull the door closed behind them. He’s anything but calm and his knuckles are bloody and there’s a bruise forming on his jaw. His eyes are wild and Coretta feels a bit like prey with the way he’s looking at her. She can’t say she minds that. She certainly doesn’t mind when his hands, warm and calloused and still stained with blood, grip her jaw on either side and tilt her head up for a kiss that’s angry and harsh and absolutely unyielding. She don’t mind at all when he pushes her up against the wall and one hand moves to grip the back of her neck and the other moves down to squeeze her ass. 

Coretta’s hands are in his hair, then gripping his neck, then his shoulders as things get more heated. She arches when he grinds himself against her and she feels his hardness through his pants. He spins her around, the hand on her neck shifts to hold her throat, not tight, not choking, just holding, and his free hand is undoing the buttons of her jeans and pushing into her underwear without hesitation. Her hands are pressing on the wall and her eyes squeeze shut when his fingers find her wetness. 

Daryl makes a noise, low in his throat, “Fuck, Ya get wet watchin’ that shit? That turn ya on? _Answer me!”_

Coretta hisses at the feeling of his fingers tightening just barely on her throat before releasing and his other fingers working fast on her clit, _“Yes_. Fuckin’ hot seein’ ya like that.”

From there, it’s fast and dirty and so much rougher than when it’s them in his perch and they should be sleeping. Her pants and underwear end up aroundone of her fuckin’ ankles and she’s bent over with her legs spread and palms braced against the wall and he’s snarling filth in her ears and fucking her like it’s a punishment. He’s playing with her clit with one hand the whole time like he wants her to come until she’s crying and every time he fucks up into her, it’s hard enough to knock the air out of her and there’s very little she can do except take it. She’s gasping and moaning and chanting his name and doing her absolute best to keep her voice quiet because it’s the middle of the afternoon and she don’t need people hearing. 

Daryl’s hand has left her throat and is holding her hip tightly in place and he’s fucking her like he wants to break her and Coretta loves every fuckin’ second of it. He pulls out at the last second and the hand on her hip let’s go for a second and then she’s feeling him come, hot and sticky, all over her ass, and still the hand on her clit keeps working. He’s panting hard and has to brace his arm against the wall above her head and her legs are shaking and her knees are threatening to buckle when she finally comes with a low moan and her eyes roll back for a moment and she just rides it out, her hips jerking violently against his hand and against his crotch that still pressed against her ass. 

She’s panting as she comes down and Daryl practically drags her onto her bunk with him when he’s caught his breath. He pulls her on top of him, his cock tucked back into his underwear already and she grimaces when he grabs the edge of the green blanket he gave her and wipes the come off her ass and thighs when she’s settled against him, legs on either side of him and her head on his chest. He ends up with a hand tightening and loosening in her hair while the other holding her asscheek in a light grip while she just lays there and listens to his heart beating loud in his chest and one hand traces lazy patterns on his bare arm. 

“Ya alright?” He asks after a moment, “I hurt ya? Shouldn’t’ve done that.”

Coretta yawns a little, “Ain’t hurt me. Feelin’ damn good right now an’ yer more than welcome ta do that again. Gonna have ta put my pants on soon though. Don’t need the boys runnin’ in here an’ seein’ my bare ass.”

Daryl grunts his agreement at that and tugs her hair lightly until she raises her head from his chest to look at him, “Told ya ta tell me if he was givin’ ya problems, didn’t I?”

She hums just a little, “Wasn’t givin’ me problems ‘til the other night. Doubt he will again. Yer hands alright?”

“Yeah. Ain’t the first time I’ve thrown a punch,” He rumbles out. 

Coretta rests her head back down on his chest and hums contentedly. She’s tired and sore again and is gonna have more fingerprint bruises to join the fading ones. She’ll get dressed in a minute. For now she just listens to his heart beat and relaxes into him. He’s gotten better at cuddling, if this can be called that, she thinks as her eyes slide shut, didn’t think he had it in him. 


	65. Chapter 65

It’s a few days later and the night before Daryl and Glenn are supposed to go on a run with Michonne, Zack, and the Bob guy. Coretta’s passed out with her face pressed into Daryl’s back with him between her and the door. 

When there’s a frantic knocking on the door to the perch, it’s Daryl that’s wide awake first. Coretta wakes confused and blinking as he opens the door, and glances down. Keston. Barefoot and wide eyed and twisting his shirt in his hands. 

“Little man? Ain’t ya supposed ta be sleepin’?” Daryl sounds like he’s not sure what’s going on. 

“Want Momma,” Keston mumbles and rubs one eye. 

Coretta yawns and sits up, “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Keston darts by Daryl’s legs as soon as he zeroes in on her and crawls into her lap to bury his face in her neck, “Had nightmare.”

Coretta mouths an apology to Daryl as he collapses back on the blankets beside her with a grunt. When he just nods back, she turns her attention to Keston, “Wanna talk ‘bout it or want me ta sing?”

“Sing, please,” He mumbles it into her neck as her hair hides him like a curtain. 

“Alright, how ‘bout we go ta my cell? Daryl’s got a run in the mornin’ an’ needs his sleep,” Coretta privately thanks god she bothered to get dressed again after sex as she goes to get up, her son clinging stubbornly to her neck. 

“No reason ta leave. Ya used ta do it before the prison. Used ta it,” Daryl’s raspy sleep voice shuts her plan down almost as soon as she starts to go. 

Coretta carefully resettles in her spot and starts running her fingers through Keston’s hair as she tries to think of a song. Almost always gospel or country songs or anything easy for her to sing without music playing even if it’s not something she generally listened to back when she could listen to music. She’s got a head full of songs, because Wade and her used to sing off key to every damn song on the radio whenever they were in the car together. She settles on some country song he’d been fixated on for about a week straight once, a _Casey Donahew_ song, if she’s remembering right. _Josie Escalido._ She keeps her voice soft as she sings for her baby, _“Josie Escalido, She lived south of the border, in a church her granddaddy’s daddy built.”_

Keston curls into a tight ball against her chest and she tries to ignore Daryl’s eyes on her as she sings, _“Jimmy was an outlaw, an outcast from the badlands. He rode a horse as black as his heart.”_

Keston clearly has a vague memory of Wade playing this song because he suddenly leans back and stares up at her in the dark like she’s telling him the secret of life instead of singing to him. Either that or because he likes the songs that tell stories the most. She smiles softly at him as she reaches the sad part, _“Blood all over Jimmy’s hands an’ Josie lyin’ in the desert sand with a bullet that tore Jimmy’s heart in two.”_

Eventually, as she nears the last few lines, Keston’s eyelids start to droop and he’s slumping against her chest again, she trails off on the final lines, _“It’ll be rosary an’ sangria, tequila an’ the cross, outlaws, angels, an’ the lost.”_

She tilts her head to look down at the top of her son’s head and listens to his breathing. Sounds like he’s asleep again. Looks like he is. She glances over at Daryl and he’s still watching her with her son. Quietly, in barely more than a whisper, she says, “I’ll take him back ta his bunk. I’m sorry ‘bout this. Know yer tired.”

Daryl just grunts, “S’fine here. Little man ain’t doin’ no harm.”

“Ya sure?” Coretta don’t wanna cause issues. 

“Put him down an’ go ta sleep already,” He sounds mildly annoyed that she’s questioning it further and it’s too late at night and they’re both too tired for that shit, so she settles Keston down beside her and drags the blanket over him and lies back down in between Keston and Daryl so it’s only her Keston kicks in his sleep. Coretta hopes to god Daryl really is comfortable with this. She knows he likes her boys, cares about them. But this is a new thing they have going and she ain’t sure how this works. Ain’t like she ever needed to know how this worked before. She was married to the man she made her babies with, after all. This is new territory for her. 

She shifts until she finds a comfortable position and tries to fall back asleep before Keston starts kicking the hell out of her. She ain’t sure how he moves around so much in his sleep. Mason sleeps like a damn log. It’s warm as fuck with three bodies in the little space and that alone in enough to drag her back to sleep. 

When she wakes up the next morning, Daryl and Keston are both gone. Well. Shit. Coretta stretches and pulls her socks and shoes on and goes to see where Daryl and her kid disappeared too. She pauses to check on Mason and he’s managed somehow to drag both dogs up onto the top bunk with him and is snoring louder than anyone his size has a right to. She figures she’ll let him sleep in awhile. Boy has been all over the place lately trying to do everything in the damn world except be a kid. 

She pulls her hair over one shoulder and does the laziest braid possible that can still pass for a braid as she goes down the stairs. She nods a greeting to Hershel and Glenn and pauses to greet Beth and check on Judith. The baby is getting big. another month or so and they’ll need to prepare for her crawling probably. She flips Merle off as he greets her with his usual level of crudeness and slips out to find Keston and get food. 

She finds Keston in the same place as the food. Daryl’s got the kid sitting across from him with a plate of food in front of each of them and Keston’s kicking his legs back and forth happily as he eats and chatters. Coretta takes her own plate from Hannah and joins them, “Mornin’, y’all.”

Keston beams big and bright up at her, “Mornin’, Momma! Was gonna wake ya up, but Daryl said ta let ya sleep.”

Daryl grunts when she turns an amused look on him, “Well, thank ya for that. I hope he didn’t make ya get up.”

“Nah. He woke up when I was checkin’ my bow,” Daryl tells her. 

“Is Mason up? He got all the dogs,” Keston tells her seriously. 

“Mason’s still snorin’. How’d he manage ta get them up there?” Coretta knows they weren’t there when she put the boys to bed. They sleep under the bunks or in Keston’s bed normally. 

“I dunno,” Keston wrinkles his nose and shrugs. 

“Wipe your face, baby, ya got food all over it,” Coretta yawns and taps the napkin beside his plate. 

“Ya on watch today?” Daryl draws her attention back to him. 

“On fence duty this afternoon. Helping Carol with laundry and inventory this morning. Before she has her reading time,” Coretta tells him, “Where y’all goin’ for the run?”

“Some convenience store me an’ Glenn scouted out, don’t look like it’s been hit too hard yet,” Daryl explains in his usual gruff way, “Might be able ta find ya a few packs of cigs.”

Coretta huffs a laugh. Since she shares with him, her stash has run low. She’s got more than enough packs to see them through another month or two though even though she’s long since quit hunting for new packs which just goes to show how many she had collected when she _was_ hunting for them, “Don’t get bit for my nicotine fix.”

Keston looks up from beside her and his eyebrows pull together, “Daryl can’t get bit, he said only Dixon’s can kill a Dixon.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Let’s not tempt fate, Dixon.”

Daryl’s eyes narrow and his lips twitch like he’s almost wanting to laugh at her, “Ain’t gonna get bit, ya heard Little man.”

Coretta rolls her eyes, “Whatever y’all say. Think Mason wants ta go next time we go huntin’. Said somethin’ ‘bout it before he went ta bed.”

Daryl just bobs his head and swallows what he’s eating, “Can do that. Kid needs ta work on his trackin’.”

Coretta don’t disagree there at all. It’s a skill Mason and Keston both need to perfect, the sooner the better. She just hums and goes back to her breakfast. Daryl is done first and grabs his crossbow as he stands, “Be back by mornin’, keep safe.”

Coretta watches as he grabs his plate next and drawls, “Don’t keep me waitin’.”

Daryl squints at her then at Keston when he waves wildly, “Bye, Daryl!”

“Yeah, see ya ‘round, little man,” Daryl rumbles out as he leaves. 

Coretta watches him disappear around the corner and glances down at Keston, “So how did Mason get the dogs on the top bunk?”

Keston shrugs and repeats, “Dunno.”

Coretta don’t believe that for a fuckin’ instant, but she’ll just wait ‘til Mason finally wakes up to get her answers. After all, she doubts Mason planned how to get the dogs down. 


	66. Chapter 66

The run goes badly and Daryl ends up delivering Beth the news of Zack’s death. Then it seems like that’s some kinda trigger for things to go absolutely sideways. Coretta’s cleaning the guns in their armory and counting ammo when the screaming starts the morning after Daryl gets back from the run. She stops quizzing her sons on the parts of a gun and how to take one apart as she registers what she’s hearing. It’s faint, but definitely in the prison. Cellblock D. With a curse, she stands up from the table and hisses sharply at her boys, “In yer cell, close it, don’t come out ‘til I come back. Now.”

Coretta doesn’t budge until Mason’s dragging Keston by the hand out of the inventory and into their cellblock. The gun shots start up as she’s grabbing a handgun and shoving a magazine in it as she runs to the cellblock the screams are coming from.She’s not the only one, anyone whose able is going there too as Rick shouts orders. It’s chaos inside Cellblock D. Absolute fuckin’ chaos. There’s people screaming and running and walkers that are brand fuckin’ new and rot free and blood on the floors. Coretta just sets to work, grabs one kid and shoves them towards the exit. Puts her knife through the eye of a walker stuck in a cell with bloody streaks down its cheek and doesn’t blink as she gets blood splattered on her face. She can hear Merle shouting at someone to get out as she brings her boot down hard on the skull of a walker that had fallen to the ground and grimaces at the squelching sound as her foot sinks into its head. 

By the time it’s over, she thinks D-block’s population is half dead people. Coretta has no idea how this happened because she clearly heard someone saying it’s not a breach. Rick and Daryl are staring down at one of the bodies when she and everyone else join them. It’s the kid that worshipped Daryl. Carl was friends with him. He’s older than her boys so Mason and Keston didn’t pay him much attention and that means his name’s slipping her mind. 

“It’s Patrick. He ain’t bit,” Daryl’s lips are twisted into a frown as he looks over at Everyone. 

Rick is staring at the blood on Patrick’s face, “How’d he die?”

Dr. S kneels beside the body and looks at the blood on its face and he looks grim as he explains the kid choked on his own blood, and that’s it’s some kind of flu probably, then he looks grimmer as he asks, “Are there any others like this?”

Coretta thinks of the one she’d stabbed as she’d passed it by, “Yeah. Locked in a cell. Already killed it.”

“There was a walker on the fence like this,” Rick adds.

“So what? This some kinda new Walker flu?” Merle is scowling down at Patrick’s corpse like the kid purposely caused this. 

“He was fine yesterday, before the run,” Daryl chews his thumb, “What kinda flu just kills ya in a day?”

“One of the pigs got sick fast,” Rick frowns and looks around at the cellblock like he’s doing a head count of the bodies. Carol walks by, ushering Lizzie and Mica away as they cry. 

“Pigs and birds are how these things spread in the past,” Hershel confirms. 

“Everyone in this cellblock’s been exposed,” Dr. S steps away from the body. 

“So what? We all gonna start bleedin’ from our eyes now?” Coretta stops looking at the dead kid to stare at the doctor. 

“Maybe not. We don’t know if we have it yet. We shouldn’t stay in here though, being around infected bodies will make the likelihood of infection worse,” Hershel’s voice is solemn as he speaks. 

“Right, everyone out. No one goes near anyone who hasn’t been in this cellblock, understand?” Rick falls into his leadership role without a thought, the way he always does during a crisis. He’s never quite been able to quit even with the council having been running things for months. 

Carol falls into step beside her as they exit the cellblock, “If anything happens, with this flu, if I catch it, can you look after Sophia for me?”

Coretta tilts her head, “Sure, can ya keep my boys outta trouble if I end up bleedin’ out my eyes?”

“Of course, Lizzie and Mica’s dad died. Ryan. Lizzie tried to put him down, but she couldn’t, she hesitated,” Carol says _hesitated_ like it’s the cardinal sin. 

Coretta stops outside, well away from cellblock C, away from the baby and her boys, and glances over at where the girl in question is standing there watching walkers with her sister near the fence, “She thinks walkers are people. Don’t understand they’re dead. ‘Course she hesitated. Probably thought she was murderin’ her daddy.”

“That can’t happen again. She’ll get killed,” Carol crosses her arms and she sounds as worried as she does annoyed. 

“I dunno, ya could try talkin’ ta her again?” Coretta suggests as she watches Daryl stalk off to dig graves, a rag around his mouth. 

“Maybe. This flu attacks the lungs. That’s what Dr. S said, so no smoking until we know you’re healthy,” Carol gives her a smile as she good-naturedly scolds her, “Your lungs could use the break.”

Coretta gives her a lazy salute as the older woman starts to walk off, presumably to talk to Rick or Hershel or maybe check on Sophia. The girl was around Patrick at reading time, after all, “Yes ma’am.”

She ends up leaning against the edge of one of the outside tables and using a rag to wipe the walker blood off her face and arms. She ain’t sure what they’re supposed to do now, can’t go in Cellblock-C where the unexposed are. And no one that doesn’t have a shift on watch or the fence seems to know what they should be doing either. which means there’s a decent handful of them just sitting around outside as they wait for marching orders. Merle has wandered after Daryl, presumably to help bury bodies. And the D-block people are moving into B-block until they can clean D-block. No one else seems to know what to do. 

By noon, everyone has calmed down and found chores to do. Not long after, Karen and David are dead and burnt and Tyreese has a meltdown and Rick has a meltdown and both of them end up bloody and somehow Daryl does too. Then an emergency council meeting is called. By that point, Coretta’s chest hurts a little and her throat feels raw, like she’s smoked one too many cigarettes in a row. By the time the meeting is done, she’s sitting against the wall of the prison. She feels exhausted and overheated and when she starts coughing, she knows she’s about to have a shit day. 

Eventually, she’s found. By Merle. He comes around the corner and spots her against the wall. She narrows her eyes at him when he crouches down a few feet from her. He’s eyeing her like he don’t like what he sees, “Shit, Sweet Cheeks, get yer ass up, y’all sickos gotta go ta death row. Doc’s orders.”

Coretta uses the wall to support herself as she drags herself up and asks, “When’d they decide that?”

“In that meetin’, some of us are goin’ on a run ta get medicine. Was gonna see if ya could go, looks like yer gonna need them meds, though. Get movin’. Ya look like shit,” Merle sounds extremely irritated with her as she starts towards A-block, “Best not die, ain’t interested in Darylina throwin’ a bitch fit ‘cause ya dropped dead.”

“Might do it just ta spite ya,” She mutters under her breath and glares at the man as he escorts her to A-block, a good few feet between them. Walking is taking more energy than it had this morning and she wants to curl back up into a ball and close her eyes against the sunlight. 

“Like hell ya will. Don’t wanna break my baby brother’s heart, now do ya?” Merle snaps at her. 

“Fuck off, old man. Where the kids?” Coretta don’t want her kids seeing her like this. 

“Admin buildin’. Kiddos an’ old fucks all got quarantined,” Merle breaks the word _quarantined_ up into three drawn out syllables. 

“Think yer old enough ta qualify for a ticket ta admin,” She coughs into her shirt as soon as she finishes talking and leans against the wall. This is bullshit. She fuckin’ hates getting sick. 

“Sweet cheeks, quit fuckin’ talkin’. Gonna cough a damn lung up even faster if ya keep at it,” Merle sounds genuinely pissed at her as they make it to A-block finally, “Get yer ass inside. No fuckin’ dyin’, hear me? I’ll feed yer body ta the damn dogs if ya do.”

Coretta manages to flip him off as Dr. S, who looks even worse than she feels, leads her inside to an empty bunk in the dark cellblock, “Sit up if you can, or lie down on your back. It’ll help keep your chest open, make breathing a little easier. I’ll bring you some water soon, okay? Cell doors need to stay closed.”

Coretta just collapses onto the shitty, bare mattress and raises one hand to give him a thumbs up. She feels like absolute shit as she throws one arm over her eyes and lets the other hang limp from the bed. Her head is pounding now and she’s shaking like she’s cold even though she’s burning up. At least the coughing isn’t constant yet. She can hear a few people who are coughing almost nonstop. She ain’t sure who Merle meant when he said they were making a medicine run, but she hopes they’re gonna haul ass. She don’t think this is the type of flu someone can just sleep off. It sure don’t feel like it. 


	67. Chapter 67

Coretta’s sweating and breathing like she just finished a marathon and she must have dozed off because when she opens her eyes and turns her head, there’s a mattress on the floor and Sophia is lying on it. The girl is curled up and shaking as she clutches that doll that Coretta had hunted up and down a creek bed for so long ago. Coretta tries to speak, but a coughing fit cuts her off and her whole body is wracked with pain and her ribs feel like they’re going to crack they hurt so much as she tries to get a breath through the hacking. When it finally subsides, she feels even worse than before and her heart is pounding in her chest and she’s not sure if that’s because she’s scared or sick. Or both. Coretta is too out of it to really analyze herself. 

She manages, eventually, to croak out, “Sophia? Should be with the other kids.”

Sophia’s eyes crack open and her normally sweet voice is an awful rasp, “Started coughing. They told me to come here.”

Coretta manages to nod her head a little, “Gonna be alright, sweetheart. Just a little cold.”

She knows she ain’t fooling anyone by saying that and from the dull look in Sophia’s eyes, Coretta is pretty sure the reassurance didn’t work. Which, fair. Coretta feels like she’s got a foot in the grave, reassurance from her right now is probably the least convincing it could possibly be. Coretta turns her head to stare up at the ceiling. Death row is solitary confinement. No top bunk. Coretta would laugh at the sick humor in putting the dying in death row, but she doesn’t have the energy or the breath for it and she thinks laughing might actually kill her. 

All she can hear is coughing and hacking and harsh, rattling breathes. Occasionally she’ll hear someone talking, but she’s too out of it to know if she’s imagining that or not. She’s still shaking and the fever feels worse and Coretta doesn’t think she could sit up if she tried. 

Coretta’s head flops to the side listlessly at the sound on the cell door opening. Hershel. Limping in with a rag around his lower face and a few cups. He sounds cheerier than usual when he greets them, “Hello, Coretta, Sophia. I hope I’m not interrupting a girl’s day. I’ve brought you some tea.”

Coretta stares at the old man as he slowly sits down between them and starts to pour the tea in cups, “Tea?”

“It’s elderberry. A natural flu remedy,” Hershel explains as he helps Sophia sit up enough to drink and holds the cup for the child. Sophia drinks it slowly, and twice Hershel has to move the cup away so the girl can cough and hack, but she manages to drink it all. 

“Thank you,” Sophia’s voice is nearly nonexistent as she thanks the man and lies back down. 

“You’re welcome,” Hershel stands up and turns to Coretta, “Can you sit up, Coretta?”

Coretta manages a weak shake of her head, “Nah.”

Hershel nods and bends over her. Places one hand on her forehead to check her fever before helping her into a sitting position. Coretta’s damn near nauseated by the way sitting up makes the room spin violently around her. Hershel holds the cup of tea for her like he did Sophia and tells her calmly, “Your fever’s getting worse, just hold on as hard as you can, They’ll come back with the medicine.”

Coretta’s throat almost rejects the tea, it hurts so bad to swallow, but she manages, not even noticing the taste. Coretta manages, as Hershel helps her lie back down, to speak, “Don’t bullshit me, what are my chances?”

Hershel looks down at her seriously, “Your chances are as good as anyone’s. You’re a fighter. It’s when you give up that I’ll be worried.”

Coretta watches as the cell door is shut behind the man before letting her gaze slide to look at the girl sharing her cell. Sophia doesn’t look any better than before. Harsh, shallow breathing and rattling breathes. Coretta hates that. Sophia shouldn’t be here. Should be healthy with all the kids in quarantine. Not holding on by a thread on death row. 

Sometime in between fits of coughing, exhaustion drags her down into fever dreams and Coretta’s last coherent, awake thought is that she hopes like hell she wakes back up. Then she’s dead to the world. 

She’s in her Daddy’s trailer again and there’s a baby crying in another room— _Hunter, that’s Hunter_ — and her momma is slumped on the couch, blonde hair piled messy and high on her head and a greenish-yellow bruise in the shape of a hand on her cheek. Coretta stares at her momma as the long dead woman looks through her. Coretta’s voice is oddly high, childlike and unfamiliar to her when she speaks, “Momma? The baby won’t stop cryin’ an’ he stinks.”

Her momma’s sky blue eyes just keep looking through her and there’s a long awkward silence as Coretta waits for the woman to say something. When she finally does, her voice is exactly what Coretta thought her momma sounded like, soft and slow and not really there, “Oh, he’ll be alright for a little longer. Come sit with Momma, baby. Let Momma hold ya while I still can.”

Coretta ain’t sure what the fuck is going on. She doesn’t remember this. Not well, anyway. She remembers the dress her momma is wearing, red and white with a sleeve hanging off one shoulder. She remembers the bruises. Not her hair though. Or what she’s saying. When her momma finally looks at her instead of through her, she knows this part never happened, “‘Retta, darlin’? Haven’t ya missed me? Come here, baby, I ain’t held ya in so long. Please, baby, stay with momma.”

Coretta’s voice is still off, still childlike, still high and small, “Momma, ya need ta check the baby. Daddy’ll get mad if he cries too much an’ I can’t make ‘im stop.”

Then her momma is gone and Daddy is standing there in front of her, belt in his hand and standing over Jesse, still a skinny, angry teen, maybe fifteen. Jesse’s back is bloody but he’s silent with every blow Daddy makes. Coretta’s not though. She’s sobbing and crying and pleading, “Daddy, please, Daddy, he ain’t do nothin’! It ain’t his fault, Daddy, please!”

Her daddy’s blue eyes are bright and furious and his voice is the deep, harsh one she remembers, “Ya hear that, boy? Makin’ Yer little sister cry, ya are! All ‘cause yer too stupid ta follow the fuckin’ rules!” 

Coretta can feel herself trying to choke back tears and knows this is accurate. Remembers it took one time, where daddy used her fear and upset to justify beating Jesse, for her to stop crying when it happened. To sit stone faced as Daddy doled out Jesse’s punishments when she was forced to witness them or catch a beating herself. She ain’t sure what rules Jesse even broke. Ain’t sure Jesse knows. Rules were always changing. Rules always changed for all of ‘em. 

She’s taking a line of coke and grinning wildly before she can keep begging her daddy to show Jesse mercy. She’s at some party and she’s blown every dollar of her paycheck from the diner she’s working at on blow. But it doesn’t matter because she feels fuckin’ great and Wade is there and he’s eighteen and her fingernails are painted the cheap purple she’d kept them for her entire junior high school year. Wade leans down to speak in her ear, “CeeCee, darlin’, think ya love that powder more’n ya love me.”

Coretta’s giggling and playing with his hand and her voice sounds more like her when she answers, “An’ I think yer confused.”

Wade’s smile is wide and his brown eyes are full of laughter that doesn’t reach his voice, “Ya sure? Had a harder time lettin’ it go than ya did killin’ me.”

Coretta’s own smile falters but her voice doesn’t fail her this time, “Didn’t kill ya, were already dead.”

“Like how ya will be? C’mon, CeeCee, Y’know yer not goin’ back,” Wade’s smile is wrong and his voice don’t sound the way it should, “Can’t go back, Darlin’. It’s a one way ticket.”

Coretta tries to speak but her throat ain’t working and her mouth opens and no words are coming out and she feels like there’s a rock on her chest. She’s staring at Wade and trying to speak and the weight on her chest increases until the dream shatters around her and she’s wide awake and can’t stop coughing. She ends up on her side and curled in on herself as the coughing wracks her body and she’s fully expecting to start coughing her lungs up. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s rapidly getting light headed as she struggles to breathe through the fuckin’ nightmare coughing. 

By the time it subsides, she’s panting and she doesn’t even have the energy to raise her head. She is able to open her eyes to look at Sophia, though. The girl is terrifyingly still on her mattress. The doll is held limply in one hand and Coretta can barely make out the quick, weak rise and fall of her chest. She looks like death warmed over and Coretta has a flashback to when Sophia got sick over the winter and the way more than one person thought she was going to die. She looks worse now. Coretta wants to go to her, wants to check on her, but she can barely move and she doesn’t have the breath to speak. She tries, she really does, but all that comes out is a wheezing sound. 

Coretta isn’t shaking anymore. She’s not sure if that’s a good or bad sign. Hopes it’s a good one and that it’s not just because she don’t have the energy left for it. She just lies there, not really looking at anything, and tries to breathe. She can hear things outside of the cell. Hears what sounds like a walker and hears people shouting and a little girl scream, but Coretta doesn’t have the energy to think about it, much less worry about it. 

When the coughing starts again, she has to turn her head towards the ground as it feels like she’s choking for a moment. When the coughing subsides again and she sees a splatter of blood on the floor, Coretta comes to the strangely calm conclusion that the medicine isn’t going to make back soon enough for her. She thought this would scare her. She really did. She’s genuinely surprised at how little fear she actually feels as she stares down at the blood. She just hopes someone puts her down before she turns. Especially with Sophia in the cell with her. 


	68. Chapter 68

Her coughing is getting worse. It’s about the only thing that she can do now. Just lie there and cough and try not to choke on her own blood. Someone had fired off a shot in the cellblock at some point and her ears are still ringing from it and she’s got no idea what’s going on outside her cell. Twice since Hershel first gave her the tea has Hershel or Sasha come into the cell to check on her and Sophia. Each time bringing more tea or water and murmuring reassurances that they just need to hold on a little longer. Coretta never says anything back and Sophia can barely open her mouth to drink much less speak. 

Coretta’s been hallucinating on and off since waking back up from her fever dream. Mostly Wade and Hunter, but her momma shows up from time to time too. She’s burning up and is struggling more and more to know what’s real and what isn’t. She’s staring at the wall behind Sophia, but she’s seeing Hunter, fourteen and bruised and all skinny limbs and a too big shirt, picking at the skin on his thumb and staring down at Sophia. 

“Don’t forget, gotta lie on yer side, don’t wanna be chokin’, Jesse told us that first time ya got drunk, ‘member?” Hunter’s voice is scratchy and cracking the way she remembers and he looks even younger than she remembers him being. Still has that baby fat on his cheeks. Just barely taller than her. 

She just coughs and her eyes slide to Sophia and away from her brother. Tries to tell if the girl is breathing or not. She’s been coughing blood worse and worse and Coretta’s not sure anymore which of them will go first. Because she’s pretty sure they both got a foot in the grave now. 

Hunter shakes his head, “She’s breathin’, ya should worry ‘bout yerself instead. My Science teacher told me once ‘bout this disease, a virus, that makes people bleed from every hole they have. At least ya ain’t bleedin’ from yer asshole. Bet that must suck somethin’ awful.”

She manages, barely, to twitch in response. She knows what teacher he’s telling her about. The woman was a bitch when Coretta was in her class, but Hunter always loved her. Hunter loves school though. Teacher’s pet. Her chest and throat seize up and she’s coughing and suffocating and there’s blood falling from her face onto the ground. 

Hunter’s voice is urgent, “Stay calm, ya gotta stay calm. Try ta stay calm. Keep coughin’, don’t let the blood clog ya up.”

The cell door is sliding open and Sasha is blocking her view from her brother and then Coretta is choking on fingers as they’re shoved into her throat and there’s blood, clots of it, just falling from her mouth to the ground with an splat noise. Sasha looks like hell, but she offers Coretta a firm smile as Coretta starts breathing again, “Just like that. It’s going to be okay, Tyreese went on the run with Daryl. They’re going to make it back. Just watch.”

Coretta just pants shallowly and her eyes slide away from Sasha to look at Hunter again. Her baby brother is grinning, “Jesse is gonna be so pissed when he sees the mess ya made. ‘Specially since ya can’t clean it up. He’s gonna have ta do it ‘fore Daddy gets home.”

Coretta’s eyebrows pull together weakly. Jesse don’t live with ‘em no more. Took off and left and they only see him when he feels like showing up. She didn’t know Jesse was in town. Ain’t sure why she didn’t know that. Don’t make sense. 

“Ya look tired, ‘Retta. Should sleep,” Hunter tells her after a moment of silence, “Don’t wanna miss the bus ‘cause ya slept in.”

Coretta wants to tell him it’s summer. There ain’t no school. She ain’t had to go to school in years. Just gotta get Mason to school. Gotta take Keston to preschool. Gotta get to work. Ain’t no school for her. Ain’t no bus she’s missing. She can’t though. Can’t even work up the will to raise her head. Just stares at her brother’s face, at his busted lip and buzz cut hair and the perfectly straight slope of their daddy’s nose on a much younger, much kinder face. She stares until her eyes blur and she has no idea what she’s looking at anymore or what she’s hearing and she has no idea what’s going on anymore. 

“Baby girl, ya remember yer prayers? Gotta pray ‘fore bed, y’know that,” Momma’s voice is soft and slow and she thinks she’s stroking her hair, “Say yer prayers, sweetheart. Say yer prayers then ya can sleep.”

Coretta tries, tries to speak. To say her prayers so Momma don’t get upset, but she can’t, her mouth is moving but there’s no sound but a wheezing noise. Momma don’t mind though, “That’s good, so good. I need ya ta keep sayin’ ‘em. Say ‘em with me, Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.”

Coretta’s mouthing the words weakly along to her momma’s voice in between her coughing fits. She can’t see her momma. Can’t turn her head to look at her, but her momma’s voice is soft in her ear as she starts reciting one of the psalms instead of the Lord’s Prayer, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for thou art with me. Say it with me, ‘Retta, ya gotta say it with me.”

Coretta can’t though. Can’t say that one. Don’t like it and don’t want to and she doesn’t do what her momma says. Those words ain’t her nightly prayers. Her momma never made her say those to sleep before. Ain’t gonna do it. So she stops listening to her momma. 

Her coughing takes her over again and forces her back to herself with a harsh, painful reminder that she’s probably dying. Probably the reason she’s seeing ghosts is because she’s gonna to be one soon. One foot in the damn grave. 

Hunter is there again and he looks concerned, “Ya need yer knife, ‘Retta. Gotta get yer knife. Keep it ready. Like the movies. Gotta be ready.”

His gaze drops down to his feet and she manages to follow it after a moment. Sophia. It’s Sophia. And there’s so much blood on her face and Coretta ain’t able to tell if she’s breathing. The doll is bloody now too. Coretta tries to speak, to call Sophia’s name, but all that comes out is a harsh croak. 

It’s Wade she sees when she tries to look at the cell bars to find someone, “CeeCee, she ain’t yer girl. We ain’t got a girl. So get yer knife out an’ get ready. Gonna have ta do her like ya did me soon.”

Coretta stares and stares until her husband is gone and there’s voices and the cell door is opening. Her eyes fall shut as Hershel limps in and the next time she opens her eyes, she’s alone except for the doll on the floor. Not even the dead are here to keep her company. Coretta wonders how much longer she’s got. Thinks it can’t be long now, if even her ghosts aren’t here to talk to her. She distantly wonders who’s gonna be the one to break the news to her boys. 


	69. Chapter 69

The next thing she’s aware of are hands moving her onto her back and she manages a faint hiss as there’s a sting in her arm. Coretta’s head falls limply to the side and there’s a wet rag cleaning her face. Voices too. She’s too out of it to identify the voices but after awhile she starts to understand what they’re saying. She struggles to come back to herself as they speak. 

“How long ‘til the meds start workin’? My nephews need their momma,” A low voice demands.

“Just got the IV started, give it a little time,” Another voice, old and patient says back. 

“She don’t look like she even has time, for fuck’s sake she was talkin’ ta dead people a second ago,” the low voice snarls back. 

“She’s held on this long. She’ll manage a few more minutes, have faith, Jesse,” The same patient voice is firm as they respond. 

“She ain’t gonna die, Claire. So get the fuck out if yer gonna keep on,” a rough, pissed off voice snaps. 

“Sweet cheeks gonna be fine, she looks better than the Chinese kid an’ he ain’t dead,” One voice points out, “Quit yer worryin’.”

Coretta’s eyes finally obey her and slide open and she takes a moment to register who all she’s looking at. It’s Hershel’s face she focuses on first and the old man smiles down at her, “Good Mornin’, Coretta. Well, the sun’s not up yet, but it is mornin’. You gave us all a good scare when we got here, but that’s okay. I just started your IV, you should start feeling better soon.”

Coretta just blinks up at him before looking at who else is here. Jesse is leaning against the wall of the cell, exactly where Hunter had been and he’s got a look on his face that’s something between relieved and terrified, “‘Retta? Y’know who I am?”

When she just keeps eying him, he turns to snap at Hershel, “That fever fry her damn brain or somethin’? Why ain’t she talkin’ anymore?”

“She’s dehydrated and exhausted and her fever has just broke. Give her a moment, Jesse,” Hershel scolds and stands up, “Better yet, go get her some of the canned soup. She’ll need to eat soon.”

Jesse jerks like he’s been electrocuted as he goes to obey and Coretta’s eyes track him to the cell door where Merle is leaning lazily against the bars and Daryl is pacing a short foot or so of space and chewing his thumb. Merle grins when she meets his gaze, “Thought ya really were gonna die just ta spite me. Some bullshit right there, doin’ that ta Ol’ Merle.”

Hershel sighs, “Merle, help me with the rest of the patients. I don’t need you trying to make Coretta angry while she’s recovering. She needs to save what strength she has.”

Merle glances at the one legged man and scoffs, “Ya need help movin’ the dead ones or something?”

“Hopefully there’s no more death tonight. Some have fallen out of their beds, I need help getting them back into them,” Hershel says calmly as he walks by the brothers. 

Merle scowls, “Only got the one hand.”

“You seem to make do just fine with one,” Hershel’s voice is a little firmer and Coretta manages a weak grin at the look he gives Merle. 

Merle notices the grin and points at her, “Nah, don’t wanna hear a word from ya, ya fuckin’ headache.”

Hershel just makes an expectant noise before glancing at Daryl, “Son, if you’re going to stay, I suggest you sit down, that pacing is going to put a hole in the floor.”

Daryl just glances at the old man and grunts before striding over to the wall beside her bunk and sitting down with long exhale. Merle and Hershel are gone and Coretta just stares after them for awhile before trying to shift her head back to look at Daryl. He looks exhausted. There are bags under his eyes and there’s a layer of dirt covering every inch of bare skin. 

He catches her looking at him and he scowls, “Told ya before, if I ain’t allowed ta up an’ leave, ya ain’t allowed ta up an’ die.Ain’t fuckin’ right scarin’ a man like that.”

Coretta’s voice is a raspy whisper when she finally manages to make her mouth work, “Where’s Sophia? She was here.”

Daryl’s jaw clenches and he shakes his head, “Gone.”

Coretta feels a sharp pang of grief go through her. Sophia is a sweet girl. Coretta spent days taking care of her and searching for the group so Sophia could have her momma back. Fuck, Carol is gonna be heart broken. She manages to speak again and her voice is still raspy, but it’s just a little less of a whisper, “How’s Carol takin’ it?”

“Dunno, ain’t seen her yet. Ya shouldn’t be worryin’ ‘bout Carol right now, ya just started makin’ sense,” Daryl’s voice is a harsh, angry rasp. 

“Didn’t know I was talkin’. Couldn’t for awhile,” She remembers trying for awhile. 

“Didn’t make any fuckin’ sense,” Is all he says. 

“Promised Carol I’d look after Sophia for her, if Carol got sick,” Coretta’s eyes go to where Sophia’s mattress had been. Her doll is gone now too. 

“Ya couldn’t even roll over. Had ta move ya onto yer back for ya,” Daryl sounds like its paining him to think about it, “Ain’t nothin’ ya could do.”

Coretta coughs a little and winces at the pain in her chest as she does. Still, breathing is already less of a struggle. When the cough subsides, she asks, “Ya see the boys?”

“Nah, they’re still in admin. Prolly get ta go back ta the cellblock in a couple hours,” Daryl rubs his jaw, “Ya looked dead. If it weren’t for yer ramblin’, woulda thought ya were dead.”

“Thought I was dead for awhile. Saw Hunter an’ Wade an’ my momma. Thought I was ‘bout ta join ‘em,” Coretta has to fight for the energy to say that much at once and her throat is burning by the end of it. 

“Nah, ya tell ‘em all ta fuck off when ya see ‘em. Ya ain’t joinin’ ‘em anytime soon, make ‘em wait,” He practically snarls it at her. 

Coretta manages a weak nod, “Sir, yes sir.”

That gets a quiet snort from Daryl and he runs the back of his knuckles on her shoulder for a second, “Get yer ass better. I’ll come by after I check on Carol. See how she’s holdin’ up.”

Coretta makes a noise of complaint without considering it as he stands up, she don’t wanna be alone and plainly says so, “Don’t wanna be alone.”

Daryl’s lips thin and he nods jerkily, one hand reaching out to brush her sweaty hair away from her face, “Yer brother gonna be back with food soon an’ I’m gonna be back soon as I talk ta Carol. Ain’t gonna keep ya waitin’, alright?”

Coretta feels pathetic being so needy and Carol is her friend and Daryl’s friend and the woman should be checked on, so she gives him a weak nod, “Tell Carol I’m sorry.”

Daryl squints down at her and his lips get even thinner, but he nods. Then she’s alone and tired and she can feel herself starting to fade back out. Now that she’s not trying to keep from choking on her own blood, it’s like her body wants is sleep. Jesse will wake her up. That’s what she figures. So she lets herself fall asleep and for the first time since getting sick, she doesn’t dream of the dead. 

When she comes to, Jesse is beside her with a bowl of whatever kinda soup they had and he’s eyeing her carefully, “Can ya sit up?”

Coretta can, once he helps pull her into a sitting position. She sways a little and her whole body aches and her throat still hurts, but she stays sitting and that alone feels like a success. Jesse sets the bowl in her lap and hands her a spoon, “Hope yer able ta feed yerself.”

“Ain’t a baby,” She mutters and despite the faint tremors in her hand she manages to get a spoonful of soup— some kinda vegetable soup— into her mouth. 

“Couple hours ago ya couldn’t even move without help, s’all I’m sayin’,” Jesse retorts and sits on the foot of the bunk. 

“How long I been sleepin’?” Coretta raises an eyebrow and shoves another spoonful of soup into her mouth. Swallowing hurts, but the heat feels amazing on her raw throat. 

“Long ass time, damn near noon now, brought ya soup earlier, but the old man said ta let ya sleep. So I ate that bowl. Got this one when ya started movin’ ‘round,” Jesse shrugs and shakes his head as he lets it hang between his hunched shoulders, “Scared the ever lovin’ fuck outta me, ‘Retta. Thought I was gonna have ta bury another siblin’. Sat outside the fuckin’ cellblock door for hours an’ couldn’t check on ya. Wasn’t allowed in no matter what happened. Thought Hershel was gonna tell me through the doors ya were gone any fuckin’ minute.”

Coretta looks down into the bowl of soup in her lap, “Kept seein’ Hunter. Was talkin’ ta me. Ya remember how much his voice used ta crack? I didn’t. Not ‘til I started seein’ him.”

“Prolly remember better’n me. Wasn’t ‘round much when his voice started crackin’,” Jesse sounds genuinely remorseful over that admission. 

“Who all made it?” Coretta has a feeling it’s nowhere near how many of them all ended up here. 

“Couple people from D-block. That Lizzie girl. Glenn an’ Sasha. No one else,” Jesse tells her after a moment, then he shrugs, “James didn’t make it.”

Coretta hums, “It bad I ain’t sheddin’ tears over that?”

“Nah. I sure fuckin’ ain’t. Finish the damn soup before Dixon comes back an’ throws a fit ‘cause ya ain’t eatin’,” Jesse orders her with a glance out towards the rest of Death row. 

She obeys and having something in her stomach feels fuckin’ amazing after everything. Being able to fuckin’ eat feels goddamn fantastic despite how terrible she still feels over all. She looks back over at her brother and looks at him really well for the first time in awhile. He needs a good shave and his hair is longer than she knows he likes, nearly covering his ears, and he’s got lines on his face she don’t remember him having before the world ended. He looks tired. Looks like this new world is wearing him out faster than just about anything else has and there’s purple bags under his eyes from not sleeping enough. When she’s done with her soup, she places the spoon in the bowl and asks, “When do I get released?”

Jesse takes the bowl from her lap and laughs at her impatience, “When ya don’t need help sittin’ up at the fuckin’ earliest.”

“Wanna see my babies,” She complains. 

“Can see ‘em when ya get out. Don’t wanna have ‘em see ya lookin’ like death warmed over, do ya?” Jesse looks at her like she’s insane. 

“I miss my babies,” She knows it probably has only been a day or so, but with the way things have gone, it feels so much longer. And after Sophia, Coretta just wants to hold her boys until they get sick of her. 

“If you can walk ta the showers tomorrow, Hershel’ll prolly let ya out,” Jesse says it casually with a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. 

“I’ll be pissed if yer wrong,” she warns him. 

“Yer always pissed at me. Ain’t nothin’ new,” Jesse retorts. 

“Its ‘cause yer an asshole if ya wanna know,” She manages to joke even has she has to cough a little bit again. She has no idea what the fuck kinda drugs Hershel is pumping into her vein but it’s better than anything she coulda gotten before. 

That gets a full blown laugh from Jesse, “Ain’t that the damn truth. Lie back down. Yer makin’ me dizzy with all that swayin’ yer doin’.”

Coretta’s bone deep sore and exhausted, but she’s been lying down for so long that she genuinely does not want to do that. She wants to be awake. Wants to be up. She’s never really been good at taking sick days. Two young boys and a bunch of dogs and two jobs never really made sick days something she could take. She’s sure there’s things that need to get done around the prison. Chores that need doing. Sitting around feels wrong. 

Jesse must read her thoughts because he pushes her down with one hand and scowls, “Stay the fuck on the bed, ‘Retta. Ya can take one damn day off. ‘Sides, Dixon’s been comin’ by while ya were sleepin’. He comes in an’ sees ya tryin’ ta leave an’ me lettin’ ya? His fuckin’ head is gonna explode.”

Coretta sighs and let’s him make her lie down. Ain’t like she can go anywhere with the IV in her arm anyway. She’s at least stuck here until that comes out. Effective way of keeping her in bed, she supposes. That and the fact she seriously doubts she can stand up for more than a minute or two. 


	70. Chapter 70

It takes a few days before any of those that got sick are allowed to leave death row. Glenn is taking the longest to recover. She finds out from Hershel that Glenn was practically dead by the time the medicine got to them. Any longer and he wouldn’t have made it. Coretta thinks of Sophia and there’s a small, resentful part of her that hates how lucky Glenn was in comparison to the young girl. Coretta ain’t about to tell anyone that particular thought. Especially not the fact that, if not for her boys needing their mother, she would have gladly traded places with the child. 

Daryl tells her the morning she’s supposed to head back to C-block about Carol. His voice is harsh and hurt and angry as he speaks, “Carol’s gone. Rick made her fuckin’ leave.”

Coretta’s changing into the clothes Jesse brought her, a tank top and a too large long-sleeve button up an irritatingly bright green color, and a pair of her jeans. She shoots Daryl an incredulous look as she buttons the jeans, “The hell? Why?”

“Said she killed Karen an’ David. Was tryin’ ta keep the infection from spreadin’. Keep Sophia an’ everyone else safe an’ shit,” Daryl sounds wrecked in the kind of way that makes her think he wants to be the one wrecking someone. 

“Sophia still got sick. Still died. Does she even fuckin’ know?” Coretta knows Rick to do some dumb shit, but she hopes to fuckin’ god he told Carol about Sophia. She’s gonna rip him a new one just for kicking her friend out. If he kicked her out without even telling her about her daughter, Coretta’s gonna use that axe he carries around on him. 

“Ask Rick. He took her on a damn run an’ left her out there,” Daryl’s mouth is twisted into a snarl even as he helps her steady herself while she pulls her worn hiking boots on. She’s going to need a new pair before winter comes. 

“She really killed ‘em?” Coretta ain’t shocked truth be told. She and Carol are friends for a reason. They get each other. They’re two of the only mommas in the group left. She ain’t saying she agrees with Carol’s actions, but she ain’t saying she wouldn’t have done the same thing if she’d thought about it long enough. Fuck. Carol shoulda told her. Sick or not, she’d’ve done something. Ain’t sure what, but something. 

“Said she admitted it,” His voice sounds like he’s been shouting at someone. She ain’t surprised. Carol was like a sister or mom or some shit to him as far as Coretta could tell. 

She straightens up and pulls the button up over one arm and then the other, leaving it unbuttoned over her tank top and admits, “I get it. Ain’t sayin’ I’d’ve done what she did. But I get it. Wouldn’t have said shit ‘bout it, though. Tyreese know?”

“Nah. Rick needs ta tell him. Ain’t sure what he’s waitin’ for since he fuckin’ kicked Carol out already,” Daryl matches her slow pace as they make their way back to the cellblock. She may be good to go, but she still feels too weak to be running around the prison all day. 

“Well, shit,” She drawls. She ain’t sure how to break that shit to somebody. Don’t know Tyreese well enough to be comfortable doing that. Let it be Rick’s job. 

As soon as she makes it in the cellblock, Hannah is in front of her and effectively stopping both her and Daryl from going anywhere. The redhead beams at her, “Hey Coretta, I’m so glad you’re better. So, I’ve been watching Mason and Keston for you while you finished recovering and I just thought I’d tell you before you see him, that Mason has a black eye—“

“What?” Coretta’s voice comes out sharper than she intends and she shoots a look at the man beside her. He definitely knew but this is the first she’s heard of this shit. He just chews his thumb and raises one shoulder in a half hearted shrug, eyes sliding away from her to look up at her boys’ cell.

“He got it in quarantine, I’m not sure how, he won’t tell me. But he’s totally fine other than that,” Hannah finishes hurriedly, already huge eyes widening with anxiety. 

“Thank ya for lettin’ me know,” Coretta manages a thin smile for the woman and slips by her. 

The dogs greet her first. Red and Molly-dog about knocking her on her ass with their combined weight and enthusiasm. She lets them jump on for a moment, petting each of them, before pushing them off her. They immediately go to greet Daryl like he’s their new favorite person. He’s a dog person. That much is fuckin’ obvious. Coretta offers easy smiles to everyone that welcomes her back. 

Daryl keeps hovering around her as makes her way up the stairs, seemingly not trusting her not to fall on them. Her sons are peaking warily out from their cell and Mason is noticeably hiding one sideof his face. Coretta steps out of the way so Daryl can head over to his perch and cocks her head at her boys, “What? Ain’t y’all miss me?”

That gets Keston moving and he’s slamming into her legs and burying his face in her stomach as he hugs her. She can barely understand him when he mumbles, “Missed ya lots, Momma.”

Coretta hugs him back and smoothes his messy hair, “Missed y’all too. How was quarantine?”

Keston wrinkles his nose, “Borin’. Momma, Sophia’s gone. Like Daddy an’ Lucy an’ T-dog an’ Lori.”

Coretta sighs and nods solemnly, “I know, baby. Ya alright? I know she was yer friend.”

Keston looks like he’s gotten too used to losing people too soon because aside from his eyes getting all big he doesn’t look torn up over it, “She was supposed ta make it.”

Coretta remembers what Mason said. That the Woodbury kids were the ones that weren’t going to make it. She has a feeling this illness was a nasty wake up call that C-block kids ain’t any safer than the Woodbury kids. She strokes his hair one more time and says, “I know.”

A noise from Mason draws her attention to her older boy, still hiding his shiner from her. Her lips twitch into a small smile, “Mace, come on out. Hannah already told me ‘bout yer little altercation. Ya gonna tell me what happened?”

Mason comes shuffling out and if she weren’t used to seeing black eyes she’d have been far more disturbed to see the black and purple bruising around his eye. He somehow manages to look both ashamed and absolutely unrepentant at once and he raises his chin up with the kind of pride that’s all Claire pride when he answers, “Sophia died an’ Carl was bein’ an ass, Momma. Said ya were gonna die too. So I hit him.”

Her hand reaches out to grasp his chin and she tilts his head gentle to get a better look, lips pressed together as she considers it. When she lets go she drawls, “Looks like he hit ya back.”

“Still knocked him over first,” Mason mutters before giving her a wary look, “Ya gonna tan my hide?”

“Nah, that shiner should be a good reminder not ta pick fights with kids bigger’n ya,” Coretta shakes her head, “Just don’t be fightin’ our people, ya hear?”

Mason finally hugs her and nods against her side, “Yes, Momma.”

Satisfied, she bends enough to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “Good, both y’all smell awful. Go shower. And take the dogs. They need ta get cleaned too. All y’all stink.”

Immediately, both boys have let her go and are complaining loudly. She just makes them get clean clothes to change into and hands them a few worn towels that were scavenged a few runs ago. Her babies probably ain’t been listening to Hannah real well. She doubts the redhead would’ve let them not shower if they’d been listening to the woman. They go. Dragging their feet the whole way, but her boys get the dogs and march off to the showers. 

The rest of the day is slow. She and Sasha and everyone else that Hershel’s allowed outta death row ain’t allowed to do anything more than a few of small chores. Hershel thinks they need a little longer to recover before they get back to doing the harder shit. So Coretta just ends up working with Keston on his reading and writing skills while making Mason practice math. They ain’t gonna need a college education or anything, but basic math and being able to fuckin’ read labels and shit are important. Mason clearly thinks it’s some kinda cruel and unusual punishment for getting in a fight, but Keston loves reading and beams every time he manages to sound a word out. The whole day, Daryl or Jesse or Merle or some other fucker hovers around like they’re waiting for a reason to drag her back to death row. It gets real old real quick. 

That night, with her boys in their beds and the dogs snoring underneath them, Coretta is in Daryl’s perch again, wearing one of his shirts, with her arms braced on his chest and examining his face. He’s getting a bit of facial hair and he looks tired, but his eyes are on her, slitted and watchful, as she breaks the silence, “Got any stories for me? Been awhile since ya told me one.”

Daryl huffs a little and drawls, “Hell kinda story ya want?”

A quicksilver smile flashes across her face for a moment, she’s learned how he shows affection. Figured it out not long ago as she was thinking about how long they’d known each other. He’s a giver. Ain’t much for cuddling most of the time or a lot of touch, especially when people can see, and fear and worry come across as anger, but all she gotta do is mention something she wants or needs and even if he’s pissed, he’ll try to get it for her. Likes being needed, she thinks. She hums as she considers his question, “Anything good. Think there’s too much sad right now for a sad one.”

Daryl is silent for so long she starts to think he ain’t gonna speak, finally he tells her, “Found a dog once, skinny as all hell, pregnant ta boot, out by an old drainage pipe near my old man’s trailer. Was prolly thirteen. Couldn’t take her home, so I started sneakin’ food out ta her. Just called her dog, bitch when she would growl at me. She weren’t real sweet. Damn thing ended up havin’ like eight or nine pups in that pipe.”

When he goes silent, she prompts him gently, “What happened ta ‘em?”

“Old guy down the street found ‘em. Took ‘em all ta his place. Kept Bitch an’ the runt. Gave the rest away,” Daryl answers, “That a good enough story?”

She yawns a little a nods, “Sounds like some shit Mason would do.”

“Nah. He’d’ve drug the damn dog an’ all her puppies in ta yer trailer. Begged ya ta let him keep ‘em all,” Daryl’s voice holds the faintest hint of amusement. Thinking of how Molly-dog ended up getting a home, she’s sure. 

“Ya ain’t wrong. Woulda been a damn mess,” Coretta agrees. 

“Shoulda seen him when he came outta the admin buildin’ with that eye. Marched right up ta me an’ demanded ta know if I got ya the meds in time. Looked like he was gonna try an’ cut my nuts off if I didn’t say yes,” Daryl sounds like he can’t decided if he’s amused by the fact her nine year old has a temper or not. 

“He’d’ve just shot ya with that kiddie bow,” She corrects him.

That gets a short snort of laughter, “Wouldn’t have felt bad ‘bout it neither.”

“Would’ve when his hide got tanned for it,” She drawls and moves off his chest to tuck herself against his side. They ain’t havin’ sex tonight. Daryl’s still worried ‘bout her breathing and the fact she ain’t at a hundred percent. Seems to think she’ll start choking on her own blood again if she has an orgasm. She appreciates the concern, but she don’t like being treated like an invalid. Still, she don’t push and just settles against his ribs and soaks in the warmth. Summer is damn near over, days are getting shorter, nights cooling down and she’s already dreading the coming endless cold. Daryl don’t ever seem to mind she uses him as a space heater at night. Just curses colorfully whenever she manages to put her cold feet on any bare skin she can find. 

She should be coming up with a story to give him in return. That’s how they do it. A story for a story. But she’s tired and he ain’t prompting her for one and she really don’t really have the energy left to think one up. She’ll tell him one in the morning. Got all the damn time in the world for that shit and Daryl is startlingly patient despite his quick temper. She figures he’ll forgive her if she makes him wait ‘til morning for her to give him a story back. 


	71. Chapter 71

Coretta has secrets. That’s the damn truth. She’s kept them from everyone but Mason and Jesse since the prison became home. She ain’t never quite relaxed here. No matter how many months they’ve spent here, no matter how safe it feels, she’s always had a foot out the door, ready to take her boys and bolt at the first sign that this shit ain’t gonna work. 

She’s got three bug out bags. One for her and one for each boy. Damn near identical in contents. A change of clothes each. A couple bags of jerky she found on a good run and never told anyone about. A pocket knife in the side pocket of each back pack. A few water bottles filled with water she boiled. A thing of matches in hers and Mason’s. Wade’s nine millimeter hand gun in her bag with a fully loaded twenty round magazine. A full box of nine millimeter ammo Jesse hid from Crazy Gavin’s prepper stash. A knife sharpener in Mason’s bag. An old compass in Keston’s bag. Tampons she’s been taking from inventory here and there in her bag. A tiny revolver in Mason’s bag that she’d made sure he knew exactly how to handle safely before putting it there with a half full box of ammo for it.Half her stash of cigs is stuffed in her bag and she’s got three lighters too. A flare gun and a few flares are in Keston’s bag. The keys to the truck— lost as far as anyone knows, curtesy of Jesse— are stashed inside Mason’s bag. Jesse has kept her truck half full of gas at all times despite the fact no one uses it. Ain’t worth hot wiring for a run since it’s old with bad mileage. Jesse had decided to do that part. Make sure the truck was hers and the boys’ if they needed to run. She feels bad from time to time, but she figures, eventually, she’ll “find” the keys again. When she stops waiting for things to go wrong. 

Keston doesn’t know about the bags or the keys. Too young with too big a mouth. He don’t quite know how to keep secrets yet. Mason knows though because she’s made sure he knows exactly what to do if they need to run. Get Keston, get his bag, get Keston’s, get to the truck, wait for her or Jesse. Hell, get the dogs if he can, but leave them if he can’t. Mason knows the plan and the reason and it’s never slipped from him. 

She’s never mentioned it to anyone. Just taken small things on runs when she finds them, doesn’t mention them to a soul and adds them to the bags. She would feel bad, but the truth is, she’s a bit of a runner. She’s always ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. She’s sure someone would be pissed if they found the bags. Daryl might get it, but she also knows he’d be pissed about the truck thing and that she’s hidden this shit. That she’d trusted him with everything but this. 

She keeps the bags hidden under Keston’s bunk. Makes sure Mason knows to grab his bow and his quiver too if they ever need to go. For months, she’s made sure he’s memorized the plan. For months, she’s felt crazy for making him repeat it for her. For months, she’s told herself she’s going to return the truck keys. For months, she’s kept hoarding shit and hiding the truck keys and keeping her silence. It’s not lying. Not really. That’s how she justifies it. It’s a lie by omission, but that’s not a real lie. So it’s alright. Her daddy didn’t burn her for omissions so omissions ain’t bad. That’s her logic. 

There’s another rabbit that’s been stuck to a tray and taken apart and someone’s been feeding walkers at the fence and she’s just told Rick and Tyreese and Daryl ‘bout the first rabbit when there’s a boom and the fuckin’ prison shakes and suddenly she don’t feel at all bad that she’s hiding those bags. She hopes it was just Jesse screwing around, but she knows she ain’t that lucky. Knows the universe ain’t ever cared about her hopes. 

What’s outside the prison fences when they make it outside stops her fuckin’ heart in her chest. Trucks and people and a motherfuckin’ tank. A tank. What the fuck? She can practically hear a pin drop as everyone takes in the sight of a fuckin’ tank outside their gates. Even the damn dogs are silent. There’s a man, standing there with an eye patch at the front and though she’s never personally seen the man, she recognizes him from the descriptions the others gave her. The Governor. 

“Rick!” The man’s voice is loud and almost pleasant and not at all what she thought it’d sound like, “Come on down, let’s have that talk!”

Coretta’s eyes go straight to Rick and she takes in the oddly panicked expression and understands immediately. He’s officially not the leader anymore. He doesn’t want to lead. He’s wants to be a fuckin’ farmer. Not a goddamn warlord or whatever the fuck a leader has to be in the apocalypse. This must be every fuckin’ fear he’s got come to life. 

“I’m not the leader anymore! We have a council now!” Rick’s voice is hoarse as he steps forward and calls back. 

Coretta knows deep in her soul that whatever is about to happen, it ain’t going to be good. She glances at Daryl and he’s dragging a basket full of loaded guns quietly over and passing them out. One for everyone. Her hands grip the gun he gives her tightly and their eyes meet for a second. His eyebrows are pulled together and his lips pressed in a grim line. He knows this is bad. Knows it’s really bad if he’s passing out guns. Jesse is nearby and he’s already set his rifle up and she knows it’s trained on either the Governor or the man in the tank. Whichever he thinks is the bigger problem. 

When the Governor drags Michonne and Hershel out of one of the cars he brought with him and puts them on their knees, Coretta knows this is the end. The same way she’d known the end had come the night she took her boys to the shack. There is no peaceful resolution here and a glance over towards Merle using the blade on his arm to balance his gun on tells her that too. She can hear Maggie and Beth scream for their father and see Carl holding a shotgun and aiming it like a rifle. As if he has the range to kill someone with the scattering of shotgun pellets. 

“Momma?” Mason’s voice is behind her and oddly calm and she thinks of the bug out plan and knows that’s what he’s asking about. 

“Get ready, Sugar,” She says without looking back at him as she aims her gun through the chain link and puts the Governor in her sights as he keeps talking to Rick, Michonne’s sword in hand. She never calls her boys sugar. She’d made him memorize that particular phrase. Made sure if he heard it to get Keston and their bags and his bow and get to the truck. His footsteps disappearing behind her and his voice calling for Keston to come with him tells her he remembers that. If they’re lucky, it’ll be a false alarm. If they’re lucky, they won’t need to run. 

She can’t hear what Rick is saying and she can’t really hear the Governor anymore either. Both are speaking but they’ve dropped in volume so only they can hear each other. Rick is down in that damn field and she’s not even sure he has his handgun on him. Behind her, she can hear Hannah ushering people towards where the bus is, to evacuate as many as possible at once. She’d never trusted that plan. So many people, so small a space. Too easy to get trapped if something does wrong. It’s why she’d been alright with it when Jesse gave her her truck’s keys and told everyone they were lost. 

She wants to shoot the Governor. One bullet and be done with it, but Rick keeps gesturing for everyone to hold fire and Daryl keeps telling everyone to trust Rick. She don’t want to kill anyone. Has already shot one person and blew up others and the thought of more blood on her hands makes her stomach roll. But this is home and these people are a threat and she’s already discovered there’s no line she’s not willing to cross for her boys and her people and she knows she can live with a little bit more blood on her hands. What’s one more life after all? Still she holds her fire. She ain’t a brawler like Daryl or Jesse or any of the guys, but she’s been in fights and she’s learned a real simple lesson: Don’t touch first. Let them make the first move then make sure she makes the last one. That’s what Jesse used to tell her. So her finger stays off the trigger as she waits to see what happens next. 

The feel of the gun in her hands, of it pressing into her shoulders is grounding. The roaring of the blood in her ears is grounding. The feeling of her own heart beating a violent tempo in her chest is grounding. She does her best to keep her breathing even as she stares through the scope of the gun at the Governor. Michonne’s sword glints brilliantly in the sunlight as it comes out of the sheath and her breath catches in her throat as the man sets the blade against the side of Hershel’s neck. Hershel kept her alive until Daryl and the others made it back with medicine. He’s patiently taught Mason basic first aid. He’s helped take care of her dogs. He’s a voice of reason and the calm in their often chaotic group. He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be on his knees with a sword to his throat. 

She can see the moment negotiations, or whatever the fuck this is, fails. There’s a truly awful expression on the Governor’s face and the sword swings back. It’s like time slows down as she watches that sword move. Her finger is on the trigger and the safety is off the gun and the sword is still moving and then there’s blood. So much fuckin’ blood and it’s coming from Hershel and suddenly time speeds back up and there’s screams and gunshots as everyone reacts and the world goes to hell again. 

Coretta’s firing without really aiming anymore, every time something so much as twitches in her sights she’s firing at it. She can hear Beth and Maggie screaming and the tank takes their fuckin’ fence down and she can’t see Michonne anymore. But she can see Rick firing his revolver at the Governor and figures he has him and starts trying to shoot the ever loving shit out of his little group of idiots. She watches her bullets drop an old man with a long beard and fires off a few more rounds as the fuckin’ walkers start pouring in too. The tank fires another shot off and her ears are ringing and the whole world shakes as it puts a hole in the side of C-block. 

Coretta can hear the groans of walkers and guns firing and so much screaming. She fires and fires until she’s out of ammo and outright abandons her gun. It’s chaos. She can’t see anyone in the mess. Can’t find them. She can hear yelling and voices, but all she sees are walkers and the Governor’s people and bodies on the ground as she dodged bullets and makes a beeline for her own bug out bag and her bow and arrows. It’s time to go. If she can find Daryl or Jesse or even the damn baby, she will. But she needs to get her boys out of here. She needs to get them somewhere, anywhere that’s safe. 

So she runs for D-block. Hisses when a bullet grazes her shoulder and blood starts running down her arm. It burns like a fuckin’ bitch and she wants to pause to stop the bleeding, but she needs to get her shit and get gone. She’s scrambling up the stairs to where her stuff is and nearly falls when the fuckin’ tank puts a goddamn hole in D-block too. Rubble is falling and things are on fire and Coretta’s arm is bleeding like a bitch and there’s walkers absolutely flooding in through the hole in the fence and she can’t hear out of one ear from the blast. She manages to get her bag from under Keston’s bed and throws it and her quiver over her shoulder. There’s another boom as she grabs her bow and launches herself down the stairs and out towards where the truck is. 

She’s dodging walkers and what bullets that are still flying as she runs. She passes a body on the ground with curly red hair and grimaces. Hannah. Jesse is gonna be heartbroken. Her heart is pounding out of her chest and then it feels like it stops entirely when she sees her truck is gone. For a moment she wants to have a fuckin’ meltdown until she remembers Jesse knew the plan. Knew if he couldn’t find her to get her boys and run. He was the only person who knew where the keys were. It’s a calming feeling to know her boys are with her brother even as her anxiety over not knowing where they are shoots up. They’re at least alive and safe and have Jesse with them. It’s the best case scenario she can think of right now. 

She spots Molly-dog and curses. Jesse probably threw the dogs in the back of the truck, not remembering that Molly-dog jumps out of the truck bed. She whistles sharply and the pit is damn near flying in her haste to make it to Coretta. She ain’t gonna leave the dog behind if she don’t have to. Mason would be upset and if she’s gotta be alone for awhile, she would rather at least have the dog with her. She manages to grabs a length of rope and get it tied to the dog’s collar before a hand grabs her shoulder and on reflex she’s trying to hit the person in the head with her bow. 

“Fuck! Watch it, Sweet Cheeks. Where the hell is my brother?” Merle looks damn near rabid as he demands answers. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know! Dunno where anyone fuckin’ is!” She shrieks it at him while Molly-dog presses against her leg and barks at a group of walkers heading towards them. 

Merle scowls at the sight and snaps, “Goddammit! C’mon! Ain’t gonna be fuckin’ dinner today.”

When she doesn’t move right away, his good hand grabs her by the upper arm and yanks her into a run beside him. Molly-dog’s tail is tucked as the pit hauls ass beside them. Coretta has no idea where her brother took her boys, if he drove on or off road, and there’s too many walkers and not enough familiar faces, so she sprints after Merle. Better than being alone. Better than searching for their people on her own. 


	72. Chapter 72

She’s stuck following Merle through the goddamn woods with fuckin’ Molly-dog. She wishes it was Red. At least he can track a scent. She buries her anxiety about her boys being separated from her and her worry over where Daryl is and ignores her doubts about everyone else’s survival and just follows Merle. He’s tense and pissed off and keeps glancing at the gathering clouds as they move. She ain’t sure where he’s going and she gets the feeling he’s not thrilled to be stuck with her and Molly-dog, but for now, she’s sticking with him. He’ll be hunting for his brother. Jesse and her boys will be hunting for her. And if not, she’ll find them with Daryl’s help once they find him. Sticking with Merle is her best path right now. 

“Found this place with Darylina an’ the Nubian Queen awhile back. Should be there by sunset if ya don’t slow me down,” Merle finally drawls after damn near two hours of wandering through the woods in silence. 

“Think Daryl gonna be there?” She sees the way his jaw ticks and thinks he ain’t got a clue. 

“Boy knows where it is. Might show up,” Merle sounds deeply annoyed at the thought that Daryl might not show up. 

Coretta doesn’t ask anything else. She gets the feeling his temper is running as short as hers right now and she don’t wanna get in a screaming match in the middle of Walker infested woods. Ain’t really how she wants to spend her goddamn day. Especially since her arm is still sluggishly bleeding from the bullet graze. It probably needs stitches, if she had to guess, but as it is, she’s just torn a piece of the bottom of her shirt off and tied it around the injury. At least the hearing in her ear has come back, even if she’s still hearing ringing. 

Molly-dog is acting like an eighty-pound, easily startled security alarm. Everytime the damn thing so much as scents a Walker, she starts whining and yelling and trying to take off. Without the rope, Coretta has a feeling the dog would be halfway across the state by now. At least the dog is useful for warning of walkers. 

Coretta keeps any eye out for any signs of their people as they move. They’ve been lucky so far, not many walkers have been in the direction they’re heading yet. She’s cursing in her head because for all her planning she and Jesse hadn’t picked a meet up spot. She’s not sure if it’s because they’d gotten too comfortable or if it’s because they figured they probably wouldn’t be separated, but she feels like a fuckin’ idiot for not planning what to do passed getting out. Now she’s stuck with Merle and no idea where her kids are. At least Jesse has them. That’s something. Even if it means her boys are probably going to be a bit more wild when she gets them back. 

“Why don’t ya use that bow of yers an’ get us some food?” Merle’s voice is a rough growl as he mentions it. 

Coretta scowls, as if she hadn’t considered it, “Ain’t nothin’ ta hunt with all the walkers stirred up. ‘Sides, got jerky in my bag.”

Merle looks back at her and eyes her backpack like he just realized she had that, “Were ya just waitin’ ta run? Goddamn stray dog.”

“I like bein’ prepared,” She drawls back and pulls Molly-dog back to her leg when the dog tries to sniff a Walker that’s dragging itself along the ground. 

“Yeah? Then where the hell yer kids at? Didn’t plan for ‘em?” He sounds like he’s looking for a fight as they push through the thick undergrowth. 

“Jesse’s got ‘em in my truck,” She shrugs, “They’ll be alright ‘til we all meet back up.”

“Them keys never got lost, did they?” Merle shakes his head, “Shoulda known y’all were bein’ all sneaky an’ shit.”

“Weren’t hurtin’ nobody,” She doesn’t feel the slightest bad about her planning now that the prison is gone. 

“Darylina know ‘bout it or ya been lyin’ ta him too?” Merle questions. 

Coretta doesn’t answer. Ain’t really a lie. She just never mentioned it to him. Just kept silent about it. Ain’t a lie. Just silence. 

Merle uses his arm knife to cut through the bushes and his voice grates on her ears when he laughs at her silence, “Knew ya ain’t tell him. Bet ya ain’t tell no one.”

“Ain’t see a reason ta,” Coretta drawls. 

Merle snorts a little, “Well, we’ll find ‘em all soon enough. Ya remember where that fuckin’ bus was supposed ta go?”

“The road. Ain’t sure there was a final destination chosen. Think we were gonna figure it out if we ever had ta,” Coretta shrugs, “We gonna go find it?”

“Nah. That bus ain’t something any of the useful people gonna be on, ain’t gonna waste time lookin’ for the useless,” Merle sounds a bit like his own words are sour on his tongue. 

“Ain’t ya a damn hero,” She drawls sarcastically. 

“Brought yer bitchy ass with me, ain’t I? Coulda just left ya,” He snarls. 

Coretta has her doubts about that. He may not like her, but Merle is Daryl’s brother. Same blood in both their veins and she thinks deep down they both got a thing for helping people. Even if it’s buried really, really deep down in Merle. 

She sighs and doesn’t say anything back. He talks enough for ten people. Bitches enough for a hundred people. She has no clue where the fuck they’re headed but so long as there’s a roof and she ain’t gonna get bit or rained on tonight, she ain’t gonna complain. 

At least he’s right when he says they’ll be there by sunset. It’s a trailer. A shitty one, with another one beside it. Home sweet fuckin’ home. There’s a door. And walls. Better than nothing for one night. They need a night to sleep and figure out how to find everyone and if Merle is right, Daryl or Michonne might come this way. This might be the best they’re gonna get in way of both shelter and the possibility of finding their people at the moment. 

The inside of the trailer is nasty. There’s trash everywhere and a fuckin’ titty statue, but there’s a decent lazy boy chair and a table and no dead bodies. So she doesn’t complain. She checks the windows and is the door is sturdy and ties Molly-dog to the table. Merle is outside somewhere and Coretta says fuck her lungs and fuck the last few nicotine free days where she was either dying or recovering from almost dying and digs a pack of cigarettes out of her bag and lights one as she checks the cabinets for anything edible. She might have a few bags of jerky, but the more food the better. 

The sky breaks open as she’s taking her first drag of her cigarette and the sound of rain on the roof damn near throws her back to her childhood in her daddy’s nasty old trailer. Sharing a bed with hunter and a room with both her brothers and the sound of the rain and thunder almost louder than her daddy’s drunken rages. 

Merle crashes through the front door dripping rainwater with a triumphant laugh, “Knew it’d still be here. Catch, Sweet cheeks.”

Coretta has barely a second to catch the mason jar thrown her way and laughs herself when she gets a good look at it and understands. This place is a fuckin’ shine shack. A better one than the old one she and the boys had holed up in. Actually has rooms and shit. She figures she can use some of the moonshine to disinfect the graze on her arm. With an amused grin she raises the jar in the air, “I see why ya chose this place now.”

“If we gotta be stuck in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, might as well have a good time. Pass me one of them cigarettes,” Merle orders as he unscrews his shine jar and takes a seat in the lazy boy. 

Coretta shrugs and tosses him the pack and a lighter, “Virginia slims. Ain’t real good, I don’t think.”

Merle’s eyebrow quirks as he looks at the pack, “Shit, Daryl tell ya our ma used ta smoke these?”

Coretta unties the piece of her shirt she’d put around the bullet graze and hisses in pain as she pours some of the moonshine on the injury. When the pain fades to something manageable, she answers, “Nah, we didn’t talk much ‘bout our mommas.”

“Oh yeah, our momma would sit in bed an’ smoke these things all damn day,” Merle drawls. 

Coretta looks at her own cigarette and shrugs, “Mine weren’t much of a smoker. Thought it was a sin or some shit. Not that that stopped anyone else from smokin’.”

Merle snorts, “Think the big man’s got bigger problems than one little cigarette.”

Coretta just takes a seat on the ground and sets her jar beside her, puts her cigarette between her lips, and dogs through her bag. When she finds the jerky she grins around her cig and tosses a bag at Merle, “Dinner.”

Merle snorts as he sets his shine between his legs and picks the bag off the ground, “What else ya got in that bag?”

Coretta pulls another bag of jerky out for herself and gives him a sly grin, “Got tampons if ya start pms’ing.”

Merle squints at her and it’s a painfully Daryl-Esque expression, “Drink yer damn shine, maybe it’ll make ya sweeter.”

Coretta just takes another drag of her cigarette and exhales before eating a piece of the beef jerky. She swallows and says warningly, “I ain’t much of a sweet drunk these days.”

“Don’t give a damn. Just drink the fuckin’ shine an’ don’t be a bitch. Think ya can do that, Sweet cheeks?” Merle snaps. 

Coretta rolls her eyes and mutters, “Asshole.”

“Well, pot meet kettle,” He throws back as he drinks more moonshine. 

Coretta sighs and takes a long drink from her jar. If she’s gonna be stuck in a house with Merle and Molly-dog for a night while her boys are god knows where with Jesse, she might as get drunk. Ain’t like she’s gotta guard her babies tonight. It’s the same awful taste she remembers from Wade’s moonshine. The same burn in her throat. The same moment of rolling nausea that the first sip always causes her. The same soothing warmth that spreads through her body as the alcohol does what alcohol does. She sighs and takes a drag of her cigarette as she relaxes minutely. 

Coretta ends up leaning back against the wall, cigarette in one hand and jar of shine in the other and an empty beef jerky bag discarded in the trash already in the room. Merle is reclining in that chair and watching the rain out the window. Coretta narrows her eyes at him and says, “Hangovers or not, we ain’t stayin’ long tomorrow. Gotta find my kids. Find yer brother. Find everyone.”

“Nah? Really? Never woulda fuckin’ thought. Figured we were just gonna shack up here forever. Fuck, if yer gonna talk, try not ta state the fuckin’ obvious,” Merle snaps with a derisive sneer. 

“Figures ya’d be an asshole drunk too,” Coretta takes another sip of her moonshine and glances towards where Molly-dog is sleeping in the shitty kitchen. 

Merle flicks the butt of his cigarette at her, “Ya ain’t a fuckin’ peach at the best of times neither.”

Coretta feels a lazy smile spread across her face, “Should be sweeter ta the keeper of the cigarettes. If yer anything like most people, that alcohol’s gonna make ya wanna chain smoke.”

Merle just takes a long sip of his shine and sneers, “What? Need ta say please an’ thank ya?”

“Nah. Don’t think ya ever learned how an’ I ain’t in the mood for tryin’ ta train another dog,” Coretta drawls meanly. Guess she’s gonna be a mean drunk tonight. It’s definitely how she’s feeling. 

Merle points his stump at her, the knife having been removed at some point, “Hell I ever do ta ya? Really, Sweet cheeks, ya like my brother enough ta bump uglies with him, but ya can’t even go one day without bein’ a bitch ta me.”

Coretta tilts her head and considers him, “Ain’t like ya try ta be sweet ta me. Ya want friendly from me, maybe try givin’ it back.”

He bobs his head a little and switches gears suddenly, “Ain’t ya a little songbird?”

“S’cuse me?” Coretta gives him an incredulous look. 

“Ya sing. Heard ya in the prison a few times. Might liven this little party up, so sing something an’ I’ll be nice. Fair trade, sweet cheeks,” Merle elaborates. 

Coretta narrows her eyes at him, “Hell kinda song ya even want?”

“Surprise me, sweet cheeks,” Merle waves a hand dismissively. 

She takes another sip of her shine and enjoys the pleasant haze it’s given her, “I’ll sing ya one song if ya never call me that again.”

Merle scowls at her negotiations but nods, “Fine, whatever. Just sing somethin’ already. Sick of listenin’ ta the fuckin’ storm.”

Coretta sets her jar down and looks up at the water stained ceiling. Tries to think of a song that ain’t sad. Don’t need no sad songs tonight. She settles on a _George Strait_ song. Only one she can think of right now, _run._ Ain’t a happy song, but it definitely ain’t a sad one. Her voice is still a bit hoarse from being sick and she’s slurring a bit but Merle don’t seem to care as she sings, “ _So find a truck an’ fire it up, lean on the gas an’ off the clutch. Leave Dallas in the dust. I need ya in a rush, so baby, run.”_

When she finally finishes, Merle speaks again, “Figured ya were a country girl. Got anymore for me?”

“I look like a jukebox ta ya?” Coretta eyes him as she lights another cigarette and inhales deeply. 

“I’ll make yer new nickname somethin’ nice if ya do,” He bargains. 

Coretta’s good and drunk and singing is better than talking because at least she ain’t looking to pick a fight so she shrugs and picks a _Robert Earl Keen_ song older than her. Really, she knows too many fuckin’ songs. _The Road Goes On Forever_ seems like a good enough pick. Her voice is a little raspier than usual thanks to the smoking and the drinking as she sings, _“Sherry was a waitress at the only joint in town. She had a reputation as a girl who’d been around.”_

Coretta watches the window as thunder crashes and lightning flashes and just keeps singing until her eyelids are dropping and her cigarette is burnt out. She’s just awake enough as she finishes the song to have the calm realization that this ain’t the worst situation she’s been in. drunk in an abandoned trailer with Merle Dixon while her boys are safe with Jesse ain’t the worst way this coulda gone at all. Even if she still ain’t a fan of Merle. Even if her hangover is gonna make her regret life in the morning. 


	73. Chapter 73

Being hungover with Merle is much less enjoyable than being drunk with the man. Her mouth tastes like ass and her head is pounding even as she drinks some of the water she has. Coretta sighs as she tosses Molly-dog some of the jerky and lights a cigarette. Merle is pissing outside and Coretta figures they’ll be heading out soon. 

Merle comes back in and starts putting his knife back on his arm, “If Daryl ain’t comin’ here, it’s ‘cause he’s gonna be lookin’ for everyone. An’ they’re directionally challenged an’ all. So most of ‘em are gonna be lookin’ for a land mark. Figure either the road from the prison or the train tracks. Whatcha think, Doll?”

Coretta squints at the new nickname and shrugs, “Should leave something so he knows we were here if he does come by.”

Merle rubs his jaw, “Leave a pair of Virginia Slims. He’ll recognize the brand. Should be smart enough ta know I was ‘round here at least if he sees ‘em. Don’t want strangers knowin’ we were here if someone else finds it instead.”

“Why a pair?” Coretta raises an eyebrow but obeys, setting them carefully in the center of the table, the little gold lettering of the brand facing up. 

“Two cigs, two people,” Merle waves his hand carelessly. 

Coretta nods and pulls her backpack on and works her quiver on beside it. She’s got her bow and the dog and they need to keep moving. They have people to find and they can’t do that sitting here. She puts her cigarette out and drops it in the empty shine jar she placed on the table. Hopefully, Daryl will make the connection there. Two cigarettes, Virginia slims. One put out in a moonshine jar. She hopes it’s not too subtle. 

“Well? Let’s get movin’. Ain’t got all damn day,” Merle swings the door open and gestures dramatically for her to go. 

With a roll of her eyes, she obeys, tugging Molly-dog along beside her. They do have all day, truth be told. But they got people to find. Her kids. Her brother. Daryl. Rick. The baby. All of them. They have a lot of people to find. Neither voice the possibility that any of those people could be dead. Best not to go down that road. 

“So road or tracks first?” Coretta tilts her head expectantly as Merle takes the lead. 

“Road first. Claire’s got that truck. Might find him an’ yer brats,” Merle huffs out as they step through the mud the thunderstorm created the night before, “Might have a ride if we do.”

Coretta considers what her brother would do. He’s unpredictable. That’s the problem and her truck handles off road just fine. If he thinks it’s safer with the boys to stay away from the road, he won’t be there. If he thinks it is, he’s going to be looking for a place to hole up in with them. He won’t be on the road either way. At least not nearby. 

“Might find ‘em there. Depends on Jesse’s mood,” She settles on as they leave the shack behind. 

“Yer brother is a fuckin’ nutjob. Ya really expect him ta keep yer boys safe?” He sounds like he’s genuinely concerned underneath the flippant way he says it. 

If Jesse wasn’t sober. If he was on meth, her answer would be a resounding no, but he’s not. He’s sober and has been for months, she doesn’t hesitate before answering, “Blood’s blood. He’ll keep ‘em livin’ come hell or high water.”

She doesn’t add that he ain’t willing to fail anymore of their family. They both failed Hunter. Jesse viewed Wade like another younger brother and Wade is dead. Jesse won’t let any harm come to her sons while he’s still breathing. She knows that much. 

Merle doesn’t say anything back to that and they keep moving. Their hangovers making them disinterested in any real conversation. Which works for her. Between the two of them, even with Molly-dog being her usually stupid self, the walkers they come across aren’t much of an issue. There’s no herds bigger than ten or so that they come across and they’re all loud enough to give them plenty of time to get ready for them. It’s messy and smelly and as boring as killing walkers ever is. The only time they scare her anymore is when there’s too many to kill or not enough space to run. Then it’s a bit stressful. People are what worry her these days. They’re the wild cards in the apocalypse. The constants like Walkers don’t bother her in the least. 

It’s humid as they move and Coretta knows they’re going to need to pause and rest eventually. Even though neither of them want to, they’re going to need to and that’s on top of finding shelter for the night. Preferably near where their people might come by. 

She manages to shoot a pair of squirrels when they get closer to the road. She’s happy enough with that, but she’s dreading the possibility of eating it raw. Making a fire at night out in the open is a bad idea with just the two of them. Unless a house has a wood stove, they won’t have anything to cook them on unless they want to set a fire in a living room. Coretta’s not exactly thrilled by the prospect even as it becomes clear that’s probably what’s going to happen. If they find shelter for the night. 

When they reach the road, Coretta breaks the hours long silence, “So, which way ya thinkin’?”

Merle works his jaw and points, “That way heads back ta Atlanta. Other way gets us closer ta the railroad if I’m rememberin’ right.”

Coretta pulls Molly-dog to her leg and looks up and down the road, “Ain’t Atlanta a shit hole these days?”

“Doll, whole damn world is a shit hole these days. Ya miss the memo?” Merle drawls. 

Coretta tilts her head, “Train tracks are closer than the road ta the prison. Let’s head that way.”

Merle bobs his head and turns in the direction of the tracks, “Think there’s a train crossin’ a few miles up. Prolly can find a house for the night too.”

Coretta falls in step behind him, Molly-dog trailing along behind on her lead. She eyesbroken down car on the side of the road, clearly looted already and sighs, “Need real bandages for my arm. Or something to stitch it with. Ain’t real good at it, but it keeps reopenin’. I’m sick of it.”

Merle glances back at her and eyes her arm for a moment, “It infected?”

She shakes her head, “Poured moonshine on it again. Hurts like a bitch an’ keeps bleedin’, but it ain’t infected yet.”

He spits on the asphalt and nods, “Find ya somethin’. Ain’t gonna have ya die of a fuckin’ graze.”

Coretta hums, “Well, I do die, think it’s yer job ta keep me from gettin’ back up.”

Merle waves his knife arm in the air, “Gotcha covered, Doll.”

She knows he’ll do it too. Something she appreciates. She don’t wanna die and come back. She just wants to be dead and stay dead when her ticket gets called. She knows a few of the people at the prison struggled with putting down people they knew. She’s glad she ain’t with one of them. 

Twice they have to run when herds too big for them to take on stumble out of the tree line. They don’t sprint. don’t need to. A slow job to put a decent distance between them and the slow moving Walkers is enough to keep them well out of reach. 

When they find the bus open and surrounded by dead walkers, Merle shakes his head and drawls, “Told ya findin’ the bus was pointless.”

Coretta eyes the bodies of people she used to know and pulls Molly-dog away when she tries to eat one, “Don’t think ya want a medal for callin’ this one.”

Merle nudges one onto its back, “One of our idiots mighta put ‘em down.”

“Rain prolly washed away any tracks,” Coretta eyes the bodies. Bloated and discolored. Probably been out all night. 

“Damn shame. C’mon, Doll. Wanna find a place ta stay ‘fore nightfall,” Merle walks by the bus like it’s nothing and doesn’t wait for her to follow. 

Coretta gives the bodies a wide berth as the walk by the bus. She double checks the squirrels she killed are still tied to her back and puts the bus out of her mind. There’s nothing to be done for them and none where people she knew well. 

They do, eventually, find a place to stay a little ways back in the trees off the main road. An actual house, run down and dusty, but a house. They put down the four walkers they find inside and drag them out the door. They end up setting a fire in the shitty fireplace and cooking the squirrels that way. While Molly-dog eats the guts like always, and Merle looks through cabinets and the bathroom for anything worth taking, Coretta makes sure the squirrels are cooked while she checks over her bullet graze. Whoever made her think bullet grazes weren’t that bad, she hates them immensely. When she takes her button up and the makeshift bandages off to get a good look at it, she grimaces. It’s long and red and like someone used an ice cream scoop to take a line out of her skin. It definitely needs stitches. 

Merle whistles at her when he comes back in, “Found rubbin’ alcohol an’ a sew in’ kit. Think ya can manage? Ain’t much use here on account of one hand an’ all.”

She don’t mention she’ll only be using one hand herself. Coretta just takes the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the sewing kit and nods, “Should manage fine. Ain’t gonna be pretty, but pretty don’t much matter. Find anythin’ in the kitchen?”

“Some canned peaches, that’s ‘bout it,” Merle sounds irritated at how little is in the house, “Some clothes in the bedrooms though. If yer gonna be tearin’ clothes up.”

Coretta pours the rubbing alcohol on the graze and hisses her pain before pouring some in a glass she’d found earlier and letting the sewing thread soak in it for awhile, like Hershel showed her. She has no real idea how to do this well, but she figures it’s better than nothing. Coretta gestures to the squirrels and she pulls a lighter out to sterilize her needle, “Should be ready soon.”

Merle eyes the squirrels and the can of peaches he found, “Ain’t no feast, is it?”

Coretta shrugs and focuses on threading the string through the needle, “Better than starvin’. Ain’t quite ready ta eat the dog, y’know?”

Merle snorts, “Make a good stew with how fat the damn thing is.”

“Dog stew. She pisses me off too much an’ we’re gonna be seein’ if its any good,” Coretta mutters and tries to work up the nerve to stitch her arm up one handed and with nothing to kill the pain. 

“Bite down on somethin’ ‘fore ya do that. Don’t need ya screamin’ or bitin’ yer tongue off. Shit’s gonna hurt like a sonuvabitch,” Merle advises as he checks the squirrels. 

She pauses and pulls her buck knife out and bites down on the handle. When she forces the needle through the skin she gets why he told her to do that. The feeling of a needle going into her skin is bad enough, but feeling the thread drag through her skin is so much worse. She has to pause every time she does it and brace all over again for the next one. It’s slow and painful and there’s tears at the corners of her eyes, but she gets it done as Merle deals with the food and Molly-dog sniffs around the house. A long day with nothing to show for it and this is how it ends. In a shitty house with squirrel and canned peaches while she stitches up the graze on her arm. She’s hoping to god the next day is better. 


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of attempted sexual assault, nothing extremely detailed, only heavily implied

Day three of traveling with Merle is a shit show. That’s how Coretta classifies it at least. Starts okay then things just keep going down hill. They leave the house early in the morning, bellies full of the last of their jerky and Molly-dog straining on her lead. Her arm is still aching from her stitching job and the stitches themselves itch. She has no idea if that’s a bad sign or not, and just hopes it’ll be fine. 

Merle glances back up towards the sky as they make it back to the road and raises an eyebrow, “Yer brother the type ta burn shit down with kids?”

Coretta blinks and turns her head to follow his gaze. There’s a huge plume of smoke rising above the trees back the way they came from. Jesse likes to burn shit. She don’t think he’d do it with Mason and Keston though. She looks at the smoke for a moment and wishes she could believe her brother would be pissed off enough to have done that despite her sons being with him. At least then she’d have an idea of where they could be. After a moment she turns away and shakes her head, “Nah, Jesse likes burnin’ shit, but not that much.”

“Well ain’t that a bitch,” Merle drawls before continuing to walk up the road. 

With one last look at the smoke, Coretta whistles to Molly-dog and follows Merle down the asphalt. They have a lot of ground to cover and no time to worry about a far off fire. Merle talks a lot. She’s known that about him already, but the longer she spends with him, the more she realizes just out much he can talk. She gets why Mason followed Merle around. It’s free entertainment. The man just talks and talks and as irritating as Merle can be, as crude as he can be, he’s funny. She’ll give him that. So with nothing else to do but walk and look for their people, she listens to him talk. 

They end up a mile down the road and she’s listening to him talking about the time he punched an officer or some shit while he was in the army and knocked out the man’s teeth and she’s grinning in amusement when they find her truck and her heart is suddenly in her throat. It’s on the side of the road and the passenger door is open and she’s got her hand digging into Molly-dog’s short fur to steady herself as they approach. 

It’s Merle again that speaks, “Ain’t this yer truck, doll?”

Coretta stares at it and automatically looks for blood. For a sign that something went very wrong. She doesn’t respond as she starts looking through the truck cab. The keys are in the ignition. The cigarettes she kept in the glove box are gone. The toolbox in the bed is empty of anything useful. 

“Well, Doll? Where the fuck’re yer people?” Mere snaps when she keeps looking for an explanation. 

She finds it in the center console. A napkin with a messy note scrawled on it. Jesse’s god awful scrawl. She exhales in relief as she reads it out loud, “‘Flat tire, no spare, gone to the tracks.’ Jesse wrote it.”

Merle rubs his jaw, “Good thing we’re headin’ that way, I guess. Gotta find Darylina now.”

Coretta’s head whips around to eye him, “We gotta get ta the tracks now. I gotta find my boys.”

Merle scowls, “S’what we’re doin’, ain’t we? Got a whole fuckin’ mess of people ta find.”

Coretta is keyed up now though and marching ahead without a second thought, Molly-dog trotting along at her side, “Ain’t got time for sight seein’. Find ‘em after I find my kids.”

Merle raises his voice behind her, “I don’t know when ya decided ya were runnin’ this show, Doll, but ya best calm the fuck down. We find my brother, he’ll find yer kids. Y’know that shit.”

Coretta twists around and walks backwards so she can glare at him without pausing, “They’re at the fuckin’ tracks. Just a couple hours ahead of us! I’m findin’ my kids!”

She wants to find Daryl too, but he’s a grown man that does just fine on his own. She wants her kids more. She ain’t gonna apologize for that. Ain’t gonna feel bad for it. 

Merle’s jaw ticks as he walks after her, “Don’t even know where on the damn tracks they are! Don’t know when the fuckin’ truck broke down. Ain’t like they left a fuckin’ address or some shit!”

Coretta sneers, “That’s why we gotta find ‘em, in case ya fuckin’ forgot how this shit works.”

Merle looks like he’s trying to decide if it’s worth risking walkers by yelling at her. As it is, his voice is still louder than normal when he responds, “Doll, ya ain’t runnin’ the fuckin’ show. I got yer ass outta that prison, we’re goin’ ta the train tracks, we gonna find my brother then find yer kids. Who might I just remind ya, got yer psycho fuckin’ brother watchin’ ‘em.”

“He ain’t a fuckin’ psycho,” Coretta snaps. 

“Ya said yerself them kids’ll be fine with him, we’re findin’ my baby brother first, or yer on yer fuckin’ own,” Merle threatens. 

Coretta cocks an eyebrow and spins back around so she can see where she’s going again, “Do what ya want.”

Merle starts cursing behind her and she fully expects him to ditch her. Instead he hollers after her, “Fuck! Damnit, wait for me. Gonna get fuckin’ killed runnin’ off. Startin’ ta think ya got a fuckin’ death wish.”

Coretta just flips him off and tugs Molly-dog along. She’s got more important things to worry about than Merle falling behind. They’re only a day’s walk from the train tracks if Merle’s right. They can make it if they hurry. 

Merle bitches at her for three miles, calling her every name under the sun. She’ll give him props for creativity, he’s called her things that she ain’t even sure what the fuck they mean. But he ain’t left, so she takes that to mean he’s on board with her plan for now. Then a herd comes through and they both have bigger issues than their disagreement. It’s a mess. They end up having to run off the road and twice they nearly get separated as they dodge walkers and Coretta seriously considers letting Molly-dog go in the hopes the panicking dog will lead the walkers away. She ends up finding a house and nearly gets bit by the walkers inside it before Merle gets in and they end up holed up in the pantry breathing hard and trying to stay silent in the hopes the herd will pass the house by without issue. Merle is holding the door closed with his good hands while he has his knife arm up and at the ready. Coretta’s got Molly-dog between her legs and an arrow nocked to her bow as they listen to the groans of the walkers outside, muffled only a little by the walls between them and the living. Molly-dog’s high pitched whining and Coretta and Merle’s breathing is the only sounds they make for what feels like a lifetime as the groans and thuds of the walkers hitting the house continue. 

When the noise finally fades away, Merle turns to look at her in the darkness and she can just barely make out when he places one finger against his mouth in the universal sign for quiet, before he turns and opens the door slowly. Quieter than she’s ever seen the man, he slips out of the pantry and closes the door behind him. Coretta can just make out the sound of the floorboards creaking as he moves through the house. 

There’s a few more moments of silence before she hears him call out in a low tone, “Herd’s gone!”

Coretta opens the door slowly, hissing a command at Molly-dog to stay where she is. The dog whines pathetically but stays where she is as Coretta walks out to join Merle in the living room of the house. She guesses they were holed up in the pantry for longer than she thought, because a glance out the window at the sun tells her it’s well past noon. 

“Ain’t gonna make it ta where we’re headin’ tonight. Unless ya wanna sleep outside,” Merle drawls. He looks as unhappy about the situation as she feels, but it is what it is. 

“Think this place is safe for the night?” Coretta questions as she starts checking through the kitchen and pantry for food, letting Molly-dog out of the pantry as she does. They’ve had a safe place to sleep twice now. Coretta’s got a bad feeling about this place. Like something is going to go wrong. Her working theory, as she looks through the pantry, is that it’s because the house was visible from the road. The others had been far from the main road, found by luck or prior knowledge. This house feels exposed in comparison. 

Merle is opening the kitchen cabinets as he answers, “Ain’t like there’s a whole lot of assholes left in the world ta fuck with us. Be fine for a night.”

Coretta pulls the single can of pinto beans off one of the shelves and answers slowly, “If yer sure. Found some beans. Should have time ta go hunt ‘fore sunset.”

“Nah, just had a herd come through. Ain’t gonna find shit today. Y’know how ta set snares?” Merle questions as a cabinet door slams shut. 

That’s one thing Coretta doesn’t know. Had never been taught. Coretta picks up a little bottle of honey and examines it, “Never learned how. Daryl was gonna show me.”

Merle snorts, “Ya stay here then, try an’ figure out what we can eat. I’ll go set some. See if we can have thumper for breakfast.”

Coretta steps out of the little pantry and sets the beans and honey on the counter before giving him a frown, “Shouldn’t separate.”

“Ya were prepared ta do that ‘til that herd came through. Don’t be gettin’ all clingy now,” Merle scolds before giving her a leer, “Or are ya startin’ ta get attached ta Ol’ Merle?”

She gives him a flat look, “Go set the damn snares. Holler when ya come back or I might shoot ya by accident.”

Merle heads towards the door and throws over his shoulder, “Ya shoot me an’ I promise ya ain’t gonna like what happens if ya don’t kill me on the first try.”

Then she’s alone with Molly-dog for company. With a sigh, she looks over what Merle has found in the cabinets. One of those tiny ass bags of chips, probably stale, and a half empty jar of peanut butter and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Beans, chips, honey, peanut butter, and booze. Not exactly a good meal, but better than starving. Coretta digs through her back pack for any extra food she might have and comes up empty. She does take Wade’s gun out, checks the magazine and tucks it in the waistband of her pants. 

She stashes her bag, her bow and arrows, and the food in the little bathroom off the side of the narrow hallway and closes the door to keep Molly-dog from trying to get into any of it and to hide it in case something happens before going to check through the rest of the small house. She’d carry her bow with her, but she prefers her knife for walkers inside a house anyway. Molly-dog follows loyally at her heels as Coretta checks the first of the three bedrooms out. It looks like a guest bedroom. Nicely decorated, but without the lived-in feeling of a bedroom regularly used. Like one of those furniture store mock rooms or something. The closet is full of taped up boxes with labels for different holiday decorations. She moves on from the room quickly enough. The next room looks like a teenage boy’s room. There’s posters of cars and rock bands on the wall and a skateboard gathering dust against the wall. 

Merle’s been gone for an hour or two and she’s in the master bedroom looking through the closet at the women’s clothes left behind for something clean to wear when she hears voices that are definitely not Merle and panics. She doesn’t think before crawling under the bed and dragging Molly-dog under the bed with her with a hissed command to stay and another to shut up. She has no idea when Merle is supposed to be back, but he’s loud and she knows he’d announce himself. Whoever this is, there’s too many voices for her to take on and they’re definitely not her people. 

She keeps one hand on Molly-dog’s collar and holds her knife in the the other and tries to keep her breathing quiet. She knew this house was too exposed. She fuckin’ knew it. She listens as what sounds like three men talk to each other and bang around the rest of the house. Molly-dog’s ears are pricked up and forward and Coretta’s white-knuckling the knife in her hand and hoping they move on quickly or that Merle gets back soon and evens the odds. She has a gun, she can use her gun, but she doesn’t know if she can pop off three shots before one of these guys manages to shoot her. She’d rather not play that game. Besides, they’ve been low on water and sleep and food, and her arm is burning where she was grazed. She’s not anywhere close to one hundred percent and really, really doesn’t want to have an altercation. She hopes they just keep moving. 

She goes as still as she can, practically holding her breath, when she watches a pair of scuffed up brown boots walk into the room. She can feel Molly-dog strain against her hold on the dog’s collar, but at least the pit bull stays quiet. She watches them walk around the room. Watches them pause at the closet. Watches as they circle around to the wardrobe. For a moment it looks like whoever it is is going to leave. Then Molly-dog sneezes and the boots pause near the door. 

Coretta’s heart is pounding in her chest as she watches the feet turn back towards the bed and walk slowly around it. She shifts a little to watch the feet get closer and her whole body is tense as she braces for things to explode. Fuck Molly-dog’s fuckin’ sneeze. She’s gonna eat the damn dog if she lives. 

She expects whoever it is to kneel down and look under the bed. It’s what she would do. She’s not expecting them to reach under the bed and grab her ankle quick as lightning and drag her out from under it without even looking to see before they do it. Coretta shrieks and immediately tries to put her knife in the arm attached to the hand on her ankle. Molly-dog is silent under the bed as the man— filthy and grinning— calls out, “Hey Assholes! Found us a lady friend!” 

The man is on top of her and trying to subdue Coretta as he’s speaking. Coretta manages to slam her head against his when he bends over to try and force the knife out of her hand. She’s kicking and struggling even as his nose breaks with an audible crack and he pulls back with a curse and his blood starts pouring out of his nose. She manages to slam her knife into the side of his neck in that second he’s distracted and his blood spurts out onto her when she yanks the knife back out. His body falls on top of her and his friends comes in as she’s trying to scramble out from under the dying man. 

The remaining two men are just as filthy looking as the first man and one of them grabs her hand and forces the knife out of it and drags her out from under the dead man. She’s shrieking and thrashing and trying to remember how to get someone who’s straddling her hips off of her. Jesse had shown her years ago, but in her panic she can’t remember. 

A backhand across her face dazes her for a second and the man on top of her let’s go of her hands for a moment and she knows what’s going happen next if she doesn’t fight harder. So she renews her struggles despite the feeling of her stitches tearing and the way she’s seeing double from how hard he’d hit her. 

It’s the second hit to the face that does it. Molly-dog is friendly. Has never so much as growled at a person before. Friendliest dog Coretta has ever met. Friendlier than Red and Lucy had ever been. Type of dog a person could leave a newborn with and know the newborn would be safe. She’s not sure if it’s hunger or some protective instinct that triggers Molly-dog finally, but something does. Molly-dog gives no warning. She doesn’t bark. Doesn’t growl. All of the sudden there’s a brown and white blur slamming into the man above Coretta and then Molly-dog is growling and the man is screaming as the dog’s jaws clamp down on his face and he’s on the ground struggling under Molly-dog’s eighty pound bulk. 

The other man seems stunned for a second and Coretta’s on her knees and pulling her gun from her waistband with out thought and it’s aimed at the man’s chest unerringly. She totally disregards the man Molly-dog is mauling beside her as she flicks the safety off with practiced ease. 

The final man raises his hands in the universal sign of surrender, and sneers, “You even know how to use that thing?”

Coretta doesn’t even blink before pulling the trigger. Doesn’t say a word to the man as he drops with a choked, pained groan. She just kneels there, in that bedroom, covered in blood as Molly-dog continues tearing into the man who’d hit her and stares at the man she’d shot. She’d deliberately shot him in the stomach. A last minute adjustment made out of sheer spite. Gut shots kill slow. Kill painfully. Ain’t right to do to an animal, much less a person. But as she sits there and watches him groaning and crying in a growing pool of his own blood, she doesn’t find it in herself to care. 

The screams from the man under Molly-dog finally die off. The man Coretta shot is still breathing, but it’s quick, shallow breaths and he’s not making noise anymore when Merle finally comes back, yelling through the front door, “Ain’t dead, Doll! Where ya at?”

Coretta’s throat isn’t working and it’s not until Merle shows up in the doorway that she stops looking at the man closest to the doorway. He’s staring at the bodies and her and the dog and his lips are pressed in a thin line as he says, “Fuck.”

Coretta just stares at him and she manages to croak out, “Had ta.”

That gets Merle moving and he’s at her side and taking her gun out of her hand and tucking it into his waistband. He nods tightly at her and says, “C’mon, get up. I’ll get rid of ‘em. Fuckin’ sons of bitches deserved what they got.”

“Ain’t destroy the brains,” She says it dumbly as she staggers to her feet. 

“Good. Let ‘em turn,” Merle spits out as he starts dragging the man closest to the door out of the house. Coretta watches the blood stain the dirty carpet red as he drags the body away. 

She doesn’t like to look at that so she watches Molly-dog instead. She’s tearing a chunk out of the second man’s face and eating it like it’s a piece of steak from a dinner table. Coretta has the thought she should pull the dog back, but Molly-dog hasn’t eaten much since the prison and Coretta hates the man she’s gnawing on. It takes Merle coming back to get the man Molly-dog isn’t eating for Coretta to finally pull Molly-dog away by the collar, muttering a quiet apology to the dog for taking her away from her meal. 

When the last body is removed, Merle digs through the closet for a second and throws her a pair of jeans and a new shirt, “Should change. Get that blood off ya.”

Coretta blinks dumbly down at herself and swallows hard at the sight of so much blood on her shirt. On her hands. In her hair. She’s a mess. Killing people is messy. As messy as killing walkers. Until now, ever time she’s killed someone has been from a distance. It’s made her sick to her stomach each time, but until now, she’s never actually thrown up from it. 

She ends up throwing up what little is in her stomach beside the bloodstain the first man had left. Merle leaves her alone and she can hear him moving around in the other room. She’s still dizzy from the hits combined with her own exhaustion and throwing up makes it worse. She changes slowly. Uses another shirt to wipe the blood on her hands off and a second to tie back around the graze on her arm since the stitches tore. Doesn’t look at the bloody clothes she leaves abandoned on the bed. Picks her knife up off the floor where it was thrown and drags Molly-dog out of the room with her. 

Merle hands her one of their last bottles of water and tells her to drink slow. For the rest of the night, she sits on the floor of the living room with a bloody Molly-dog and eats peanut butter out of a jar and drinks the whisky Merle found until the bottle is dry. She expects Merle to bitch about not getting any, but for once he’s silent. Just drags a chair over to sit in front of the front door, her handgun in his lap and his knife fixed to his arm instead of taking it off and setting it beside him like he normally does at night. Neither of them sleep that night.


	75. Chapter 75

If Coretta thought she looked like her momma before, having a black and purple hand print across the side of her face really cements that idea. That’s what she thinks as she pulls her hair up into a messy, half assed bun in the little bathroom before she and Merle head out the next morning. His snares had offered up one rabbit they’d split between the two of them and Molly-dog had gleefully scarfed down the guts for them. 

She gets her gun back from Merle and tucks it back in her pants. Throws her quiver and backpack over her shoulders and lights a cigarette as they head out. They need water and they need to get to the train tracks. Those are their goals today. They’d managed to restitch her arm and she has to keep her hands busy if she doesn’t want to itch it. So she smokes and plays with Molly-dog’s lead as they walk. 

Merle is careful not to touch her as they stick close together. Which she’s grateful for. She feels like she’ll lose her shit if anyone or anything touches her today. She’s jumpy and hyper alert and the nicotine is doing nothing to calm her nerves. 

They don’t do much talking either. Nothing more than short debates over how close they are to water or the train tracks. There’s no mention of splitting up again. No threats of it from either of them. Merle doesn’t let her out of his sight again. She ain’t sure if she appreciates it or if she wants to snap at him for it. She just keeps quiet. They’ll get to the train tracks and she’ll find her boys with Jesse and everything will be fine. 

They pause only to collect river water and boil it. They don’t stop at any houses. They don’t pause to hunt. She has to shoot dinner as they walk. Manages one squirrel and picks up a tortoise off the side of the road. She’s got no clue how to cook it, but they’re going to figure it out. 

It’s late into the afternoon when they reach the train tracks. They pause long enough to read the sign that been put up. Coretta adjusts her hold on the pissed off tortoise and raises an eyebrow, “Terminus. All who arrive survive. Sounds like bullshit.”

Merle squints and rubs his jaw as he appraises the sign, “Ain’t smart advertisin’ like this.”

“Seems like a good way ta bring trouble down,” Coretta agrees. Terminus. Terminate. It’s an ominous name. She ain’t much of a reader these days, never did great in English class, but she’s got a decent vocabulary and she used to like knowing what roots and suffixes and prefixes of words meant. Thought it was interesting. Like a puzzle. And term was a root word. She knows that. Means end. Fitting for the end of the world, but she ain’t sure it’s a good name for a “sanctuary.”

“Let’s keep movin’. See if our people’re dumb enough ta buy in ta it,” Merle finally says. 

Coretta pulls Molly-dog along beside her as she follows Merle down the tracks, the tortoise is heavier than she expected it to be, and if it would quit trying to piss on her, she’d toss it in her backpack. As it is, she’s got Molly-dogs leash tied to her arm so she can carry the tortoise in one arm and her bow in the other. 

She ain’t expecting to run into who they run into a few miles up the road. She has to squint as she looks at the trio resting on the tracks. It’s evening and the light is getting low and she’s pretty sure she chalked at least one of them up for dead. She’s wary of calling out a greeting in case she’s wrong, and after the day before, she’d prefer to slip off into the woods before she and Merle get noticed. 

Merle has no such reservations and yells out, “Shit! Officer Friendly an’ my Nubian Queen! And y’all got the kid with ya! Talk ‘bout long time no fuckin’ see!”

Coretta tenses as the three fly to their feet to face them, and even in the low light, she can see Michonne drawing her sword and Rick and Carl both pulling guns. There’s a moment where she’s not sure they recognize her or Merle before Rick relaxes just a little and stares at them like they’re mirages, “Merle? Coretta? Is there— is there anyone else with you?”

Coretta’s eyes search for the baby. Judith. Too young to do much more than sit up on her own. They don’t have her. She bets that’s why he’s asking. She shakes her head, “Nah. Just been us since the prison.”

Michonne’s sword slides back into it’s sheath and she presses her lips together as they get close enough to see each other well, “Your sons?”

“Jesse’s got ‘em,” Coretta answers without hesitation. 

“How do you know that?” Carl’s question is as blunt as ever. 

“Claire stole the damn truck key. Took the brats an’ skedaddled,” Merle drawls, “Y’all come across my brother?”

“No. No, you’re the first of our people we’ve come across,” Rick shakes his head, “Thought everyone was dead.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. Ain’t ya figured out yet? We’re a group of fuckin’ cockroaches. Everyone’s gonna show up sooner or later,” Coretta forces a grin onto her face like she’s not concerned at all and she hasn’t had a shitty few days. 

“We should keep moving. Try to find shelter. Coretta, let the turtle go, we have food,” Michonne eyes the tortoise with something close to amusement. 

“It ain’t a turtle. It’s a tortoise,” Coretta corrects. 

That gets a slight smile from the stoic woman, “The tortoise then. Let it go.”

Coretta sighs and reluctantly lets the tortoise go, “Was gonna have Tortoise soup.”

“Ya couldn’t even figure out how ta cook the damn thing. Weren’t gonna eat it,” Merle laughs as they all fall in line together and head further up the tracks. Michonne is right. They need shelter and soon. Coretta ain’t staying in a house again tonight. A car or out in the open. She don’t wanna go in a house again for awhile. 

Carl looks down at Molly-dog, “Can I walk her?”

Coretta shrugs and holds out her arm for him to untie the rope, “Go for it. Tie her ta yer waist or arm. Makes it easier.”

Carl obeys and rubs Molly-dogs ears, “I missed the dogs. Figured they got eaten.”

“Nah. Not this time,” She doesn’t mention that the sweet, wriggling, happy dog he’s playing with killed a man the day before. She don’t wanna talk about any of it. 

She sticks near Merle as they follow their people up the tracks, catching up with them as they walk. Michonne had killed the Governor. Had put Hershel’s head down. That part makes Coretta a bit sick to her stomach. Hershel didn’t deserve that ending. Not one bit. Rick ended up sick for a couple days and Carl ran fuckin’ wild apparently. He grins like the kid he is when he mentions the shit load of pudding he ate. Things are less light hearted when Rick tells them about some group of men and how he killed one of them in the house he, Michonne and Carl were holed up in. Coretta can only picture the men she killed when he brings it up. She don’t wanna think about that. 

Carl eventually asks about her face, “How’d you get that bruise?”

Michonne turns enough to eye her and then Merle. Coretta knows exactly what’s going through her head. Michonne and Merle didn’t exactly meet on the best terms after all. She manages a cocky grin at Carl, “Got in a fight. Won it.”

“Who was it?” Carl persists. 

“Dunno their names. Don’t think it matters none,” She reaches into her pocket and pulls her cigarettes out. Thinking about the night before makes her want a cigarette something bad. 

“Doll here ain’t one ta screw ‘round in a fight. Didn’t need no help,” Merle cuts in with what’s almost a proud grin. She’s spent enough time around him now though to see the displeased look in his eyes at the reminder of what went down. 

“I know. She’s a good one to have around,” Rick agreed easily. 

Coretta smiles slightly at the praise. Things are going to get better. They’ve found some of their people. They made it to the tracks. Sooner or later she’ll find her sons. She’ll find Jesse. They’ll find Daryl and Glenn and Maggie and Beth and all the others they lost. 

They set up camp that night by a broken down car. The fire is small and her squirrel cooks slow as they eat some of the canned corn Michonne has in her bag. Molly-dog is stretched out by the fire as they all settle around it for warmth. Coretta stays beside Merle, near the trees and with a little distance between her and their people. It ain’t that she’s not happy to have some familiar faces, it’s that for the past few days, it’s only been Merle she’s been able to trust and after the time she’s had, she’s wary of just about everyone. 

Michonne takes first watch as they finish eating what food there is. Coretta calls Molly-dog to her to use the dog as a space heater and lies down between the car and Merle, careful to keep enough space between her and everyone else that she doesn’t feel anxious over any chance of physical contact. It’s the same uneasy sleep as always, but having a few more of their patchwork family back makes it just a little better. 


	76. Chapter 76

The next two days pass easily. They scavenge houses and eat whatever they find and follow the train tracks. Michonne’s quiet sense of humor and Carl’s sass keeps things amusing even as Rick and Merle argue over Terminus and whether any of their people might be there. Coretta just keeps an eye out for food and her boys while keeping Molly-dog from trying to eat any of the rotting corpses they pass. 

It’s the fifth or six night after the prison, Coretta’s begun to lose count, when shit hits the fan as they’re settling down for the night. Dinner is finished, a raccoon and some canned beans, and they’re all resting around their fire for the night. Merle is telling some story about a hunting trip he and Daryl went on before the end came while Rick loads and unloads that revolver of his. Carl is petting Molly-dog, who’s chewing on the left over raccoon, while Michonne pokes fun lightly at Merle’s story. 

Coretta has to slip away a little ways to piss, the full moon and clear sky making it a bit easier to get around the woods in the dark. She stays within earshot of their little camp and keeps all her weapons with her. The gun, her knife, her bow, they all stay on her. Things go sideways as she’s walking back, adjusting her jeans as she walks. 

She can hear voices that aren’t her people and the sounds of a scuffle and freezes. Molly-dog is eerily silent again despite the fact she should hear the dog barking in the camp. Coretta nocks an arrow to her bow and moves to watch from the shadows. There’s a man with a gun to Rick’s head, two more holding guns to Merle and Michonne’s heads, and some sleezy looking fucker dragging Carl out of the broken down car they’d found to sleep in.She can make Molly-dog out watching things unfold from under the car. Coretta counts out two more on the sidelines. 

The man with the gun to Rick’s head is counting down, “Ten Mississippi!”

Coretta narrows her eyes and aims her bow, intending to shoot the man in the head when the cold metal of a gun is placed against her temple, “Drop the bow, bitch.”

Coretta tilts her head just enough to eye the man holding the gun. A skinny little fucker with a mean face. She presses her lips together, but obeys. As soon as the bow is out of her hands, the man is wrapping an arm around her throat and dragging her out into the view of everyone else, “Found another pretty one!”

Coretta claws at the arm around her throat when it tightens and jerks her up until she’s on her tiptoes. The gun is still pressed to her temple and she’s pissed as fuck. She manages to choke out, “Go fuck yerself.”

“I’ll be fuckin’ you soon, sugar,” The man’s breath is hot and vile against her cheek as he answers her. 

Coretta hisses wordlessly at him and her eyes go straight to Merle. He’s not looking at her though. He’s squinting down the dark road at the last figure coming in. She’s too busy trying to keep oxygen flowing into her lungs and thinking up a way out of this to really register who it is. 

“Eight Mississippi!” The man who’s been counting down calls out. 

“Hey! Wait, man! Stop for a fuckin’ minute!” 

Coretta’s eyes fly to the figure as he appears in the firelight. Daryl. He looks like shit and Coretta feels a shock of rage go through her that he’s running with fuckers like this. What the fuck?

“You’re stopping me at eight!” The man snaps. 

“Just hold up a minute. I know these people. That’s my fuckin’ brother,” Daryl snaps, “They’re good people. Ya ain’t gonna kill ‘em.”

Coretta glares furiously at him. She wants to curse him out as they make eye contact for a moment. She ain’t let anyone touch her in days and the fact Daryl’s new buddy is choking her out and sayin’ he’s gonna rape her is making her want to risk the bullet to her brain just to murder the bastard. Daryl too if he’d been down with this bullshit until he saw them. 

“I don’t know about good people. This one killed our friend. So you’re lying,” The lead man counters.

Daryl’s jaw clenches and he nods tightly, “I get it. Y’all want blood. That’s fine. Take it from me.”

Coretta narrows her eyes as Daryl holds his arms out to his sides like an invitation. The man holding her snorts and rasps into her ear, “You’re not gonna get outta this. Gonna have you screamin’ soon.”

The fact she’s not struggling against him anymore must make him comfortable with removing the gun from her temple. Coretta tries to ignore the grimy hand feeling her up now as she tries to breathe and watches as the men not holding anyone hostage start beating Daryl. 

Merle and Rick start yelling at them to stop. Carl is pushed onto the ground and things go to hell. Rick snaps when they start threatening to rape Carl and the gun goes off beside the former cop’s head. Coretta doesn’t think before taking the distraction offered to pull her knife out. Idiot didn’t even think to check for it. She manages a shallow stab into the man’s side and he’s releasing her with a howl of pain. 

Coretta can hear the sounds of fighting around her but her focus is on the man she stabbed. He’s on her and his hand is around her throat and she feels her head get slammed hard against the ground. Coretta’s still got her knife though, he’s too busy trying to choke her out and keep himself from bleeding out to take it from her. A fuckin’ idiot. Her vision is going black and her head feels both too pressurized and light headed at once as she manages to get the knife into his arm and more blood pours down onto her. He lets her go again and this time she’s going for him. 

She’s not thinking as she knocks him over onto his back and slams his head into the campfire. She’s on top of him and her hands are getting licked by the flames too as she holds his head down and it reminds her of her daddy’s wrath, but she keeps going. He’s struggling and screaming and they’re both choking on smoke and burning together and in this moment it’s like she’s been possessed by every drop of anger and hate her family has ever felt. Jesse always did say she was their daddy’s daughter. She feels like it now. 

The man is pushing at her and hitting her, trying to get her off him. Trying to get out of the fire, but she just moves her hands off his face and presses them down onto his collarbone. She needs her fuckin’ hands and they’re turning red like a sunburn. He don’t need his face though. Don’t need oxygen. Don’t need life. She’s choking on smoke as she watches his skin blister and peel. Watches his eyes melt in the heat. Her lips are peeled back in a parody of a dog’s snarl as she watches him struggle to get air to scream. Feels a terrible kind of satisfaction when his struggles stop. 

She starts screaming and reaching for the knife she discarded in favor of fire when one arm wraps around her waist and drags her off the burning man, “Let me fuckin’ go! Don’t fuckin’ touch me!”

She’s wild in her wrath and manages to reach around and claw someone’s jaw. Merle. It’s Merle. He’s cussing and yelling, “Fuck! He’s dead, Doll! Fuckin’ dead! Quit fuckin’ hittin’ me!”

He practically tosses her away from him when her struggles don’t cease. She’s immediately pacing like a wild animal as she takes in everything else. Looking for anyone else to take her fury out on. Every one of the pieces of shit are dead. Molly-dog has slunk out from under the car to start chewing on one of the bodies. Rick is relentlessly stabbing the man who’d been trying to rape Carl and she wonders if his rage is as bad as hers is right now. Michonne is checking Carl over and watching Rick warily. Merle’s blade is soaked in blood and Daryl is approaching slowly. He’s got a black eye rapidly developing and as soon as he gets too close she’s got her gun out and pointed at him without a thought, “Stay the fuck away from me.”

Merle puts his hand up, “Easy, doll. Ain’t no one here gonna hurt ya. Ain’t gonna touch ya. Y’know that shit. Darylina here ain’t gonna do shit ta ya. So put the fuckin’ gun down.”

Coretta glares at Merle, “He’s been runnin’ with a bunch of sick fucks. Like them other fuckers. Remember them?”

“They’re dead too. Ya made damn sure of that shit. Now quit pointin’ that gun at my baby brother or we’re gonna have a problem,” Merle grits out. 

Daryl has his hands raises and he’s watching her like she’s a cornered animal, “I just met these guys, didn’t know they did that shit.”

“Daryl, why don’t you go find her bow,” Michonne cuts in carefully, “Let her calm down. Coretta— Coretta, I need you to look at me. Not at them. Okay? Look at me.”

Coretta’s arm shakes as she keeps the gun level and the adrenaline keeps coming, but she manages to turn her head to the side to look at the other woman. She doesn’t say a word to her as Michonne approaches carefully, every movement clearly projected. 

“I’m going to take the gun now, alright? You don’t need to use it tonight. It’s over,” Michonne keeps talking slowly and calmly as she carefully reaches forward and takes the gun from her. The woman manages to avoid so much as brushing her fingers as she does. 

As soon as the gun is out of her hands, it’s like the fight leaves Coretta all at once and she’s not sure how it happens but she’s on the ground with her back up against a tree and her knees pulled to her chest and she’s breathing hard and shaking. She feels like she’s done twenty lines of coke. Like her heart is going to fuckin’ explode. Her hands are stinging from being so close to the fire for so long and her head hurts from being slammed against the ground and her throat hurts every time she swallows. She can smell the blood on her and has the hysterical thought that she doesn’t have a change of clothes. She’s covered in blood and ash and her sleeves are burnt and she doesn’t have a a change of fuckin’ clothes. 

She doesn’t react when Daryl reappears and sets her bow and her knife down a few feet from her, watching her warily the entire time. Carl is crying somewhere nearby and she can hear Michonne talking to Rick in the same careful tone she’d used on Coretta. Daryl and Merle are talking in low tones and Daryl is dragging Molly-dog away from the body she’s eating. Coretta twitches a little when she sees Merle dig through her bag and pull one of her cigarette packs out and a lighter. 

Her eyes track him when he comes over and crouches down a few feet away from her and pulls one of her cigarettes out and offers it to her, “Here, Doll. Yer stitches rip again?”

Coretta snatches the cigarette and her lighter from him and despite the violent shaking of her hands, she manages to get it lit. She’s probably got smoke inhalation problems from choking on campfire smoke as she burnt the man alive, but she doesn’t care. He’s dead and she ain’t and she don’t give a shit about smoke inhalation right now. She blows out smoke before answering, “Nah. Not this time. I don’t got a change of clothes, Merle.”

She can tell he knows exactly why she’s saying that because he rubs his jaw and his eyebrows pull together and he nods, “Find ya something tomorrow. Ya good now?”

No. No, she’s really not. She don’t say that though. Just inhales another lungful of cigarette smoke and lets it back out, “Ain’t gonna shoot nobody.”

“Ain’t real reassurin’, Doll. Don’t think shootin’ is yer preferred method of killin’,” Merle drawls. 

“Ain’t gonna kill Daryl. That better?” Her eyes flick to the man in question. He’s chewing his thumb and his eyes are flicking from her to Rick to Carl to Merle to Michonne and back again. Like he can’t decide who to look at. Like he’s not sure what to do now that his piece of shit group is dead and he’s back with them. He’s still holding onto Molly-dog’s collar with one hand. 

“It’s a fuckin’ start,” Merle looks dissatisfied, but allows it. 

Coretta watches him stand back up and walk away. Watches his movements as he puts his knife in the heads of every dead body. Daryl shifts and her eyes are drawn back to him. He lets Molly-dog go and steps towards her a little, stopping further back than Merle did and tells her again in a real low voice, “Didn’t know they were like that. Didn’t know they were after Rick.”

Coretta narrows her eyes, “It matter who they were after? Would it been alright if it were strangers?”

Even in the dying firelight, she can make out his jaw clenching, “Nah, y’know it wouldn’t’ve been. Shit, y’know me, Coretta. Y’know I ain’t like that.”

She just smokes her cigarette and drawls, “Knew ya a couple days ago. Lot can happen in a few days.”

Daryl squints at her, “Ya still know me. Ain’t enough bullshit in the fuckin’ world ta make me alright with that shit.”

She stares at him and tries to get her head screwed back on. Manages just barely to say, “I know. Just don’t fuckin’ touch me. Can’t stand it lately.”

She can feel his eyes on the hand shaped bruise across her face, faded to an ugly greenish-purple color now. He nods tightly, “Won’t touch ya if ya don’t want me ta.”

She nods a little and doesn’t say anything else. Having him back is weird. Having him back after tonight is even weirder. She feels like she’s going to crawl out of her skin and her whole body hurts and she wants to scream, but she can’t do that. She doesn’t really know what to do. So she just watches as Merle calls Daryl over to him and the pair speak rapidly to each other before they start moving the dead bodies away from camp. Watches Molly-dog return to eating the dead before the brothers take them away. Watches Rick— who’s mouth and chin are covered in blood— put Carl in the broken down car and sit down against it. No one is sleeping tonight. That much is clear. No one is okay tonight either. It’s been a bad fuckin’ night. One of many bad fuckin’ nights since the world came to a screeching halt. She thinks this is just the world now and she hates it something fierce. 


	77. Chapter 77

The next day, Coretta is a bit calmer than before. Enough so that Michonne hands her her handgun as they break camp and start back down the tracks. Coretta’s still in her bloody, burnt clothes from the night before and her hands are red and hurt like a sunburn and there’s a few places where blisters formed which makes using her bow a fuckin’ pipe dream until her hands heal, so she ties that to her bag and suppresses a hiss of pain each time the blisters get irritated. Her throat has bruises from being choked and it hurts to swallow and really, she just looks and feels like shit. Everyone looks like shit. Rick’s face has dried blood flaking off it and Carl’s clothes are torn. Daryl’s got the mother of all black eyes and Merle looks a bit like he went ten rounds with an MMA fighter and the fact she left a line of scratches down his face when he pulled her off the man she’d killed doesn’t help the matter. No one mentions the fact Molly-dog still has blood on her face from eating people. 

They fall into a loose circle as they walk. Rick in the lead with Michonne walking near Carl. Daryl is keeping his distance from Coretta, Merle and Molly-dog between them, but he keeps glancing her way. Coretta has a nice little bubble of air between her and everyone else. No one is within arms reach and that makes her feel a bit better. She can’t stand the idea of anyone getting close to her right now, with the exception of the dog. 

Now that she’s calmed down a bit and her head’s screwed on right— or closer to right— again, she feels fuckin’ awful for aiming her gun at Daryl. She ain’t sure what the hell she was thinking, but she shouldn’t have done that. She’s missed Daryl, missed him a lot, she just wasn’t expecting finding him again to be such a stressful experience and it make things awkward as fuck. At least for her and Daryl, if the way he keeps glancing at her means anything. 

“Should make it to Terminus today,” Rick says tiredly, “Our people might be there.”

“Sounds like a damn trap ta me, Doll thinks so too, nobody advertises havin’ somethin’ good,” Merle drawls. He’s been wary of Terminus since they first saw the sign. 

“Coretta? That right?” Rick looks back at her expectantly. 

She doesn’t answer for a moment and when she does, her throat hurts and her voice is a rasp, “Too good ta be true. But our people might be there.”

“It’s worth the risk,” Michonne says with an air of finality, “Even if they aren’t there.”

“How’d y’all get out?” Daryl’s voice is kinda hoarse sounding when he asks the question out of nowhere. 

“Found Doll over here with the dog out by where the cars were kept. Grabbed her an’ ran,” Merle drawls, “Ended up at that shack we found for a night. Left some cigs there.”

“Don’t know how Carl and I got out. Don’t really remember much of it,” Rick sighs, “It’s all a blur.”

Daryl nods a little a chews his thumb before saying, “Got out with Beth. Made it ta the shack. Weren’t sure if ya left those or not.”

“When’d ya end up there?” Merle eyes him. Probably trying to figure out if they should’ve waited a little longer before leaving the shack. 

“Second night in,” Daryl answers and shifts his grip on his crossbow. 

Coretta’s throat is killing her but she manages to say, “Said ya got out with Beth. What happened ta her? Dead?”

“Herd came through. Got separated. Some fuckers in a van took her,” Daryl spits it out like it’s something vile he didn’t mean to eat. 

Merle scowls and shakes his head, “Damn shame. Greene’s a good kid.”

Daryl hunches his shoulders and nods, “S’how I ended up with those fuckers.” 

Coretta focuses on watching for walkers instead of listening to him mention the people he was with. She swears she’ll never get the smell of burning skin out of her nostrils. It’s a smell she’d hoped she’d never have to smell again after getting outta her daddy’s trailer. Her hands sting even worse as she pictures her hands holding that man’s face down in the fire. The whole night is a blur, but that moment stands out in perfect clarity and she hates it. 

“What happened ta the boys?” Daryl sounds like he’s bracing himself for the worst when he draws her attention back to him. 

Coretta has to take a drink of water before answering, it won’t help her throat, her throat ain’t dry after all. But it’s habit when it feels like this. She’s as raspy as before when she answers, “Jesse’s got ‘em somewhere.”

“Maybe they’ll be at Terminus,” Carl sounds hopeful. 

Coretta doubts it. If she’s wary of Terminus, there ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell Jesse would take her boys within a mile of the place. She learned paranoia from him, after all. Still, she manages a smile, “It’s a nice idea.”

Merle snorts, “Claire’s prolly holed up somewhere teachin’ them kids ta make land mines or some shit.”

“Molotov cocktails,” Coretta corrects automatically. 

“What?” Merle shoots her a look. 

Coretta steps around a walker torso stuck to the tracks and shrugs, “He’d start ‘em on Molotov cocktails. Build up. S’how he taught me.”

“Right. Of course. My bad, Doll,” Merle mutters before whistling at Molly-dog when she strays too far from them. They’d lost the rope sometime in the night and they’re relying on her obey commands to keep her from running off. 

“Coretta, try not to talk, your throat needs to heal,” Michonne chides, “the less you talk, the quicker it’ll stop hurting.”

She sighs and gives the woman a lazily salute. Michonne is normally right about shit. Coretta’s learned to listen when the swordswoman tells her something. She settles for listening to what little conversation is had. The sun beats down but there’s enough shade from the surrounding trees to make it bearable. Molly-dog has to be dragged away from rotting bodies twice because the dog doesn’t seem to give a shit about what she eats anymore. It’d be concerning if the people in their group weren’t willing to eat fuckin’ bugs if worst came to worst. 

There’s no pause as they walk. They don’t stop to rest. They don’t pass any houses so she’s stuck in the same bloody clothes as the night before. At one point Daryl manages to shoot a squirrel and they’re all too hungry to care about cooking it and won’t pause now to do that so they all end up eating little raw bits of squirrel. Coretta tries not to think about it as she chews on it. Figures it’s just like sushi. That’s how she justifies it. 

When they get close, Rick makes them break from the train tracks. They ain’t gonna go in the front door. She sticks near Merle as the group splits just enough to check the perimeter of Terminus. Merle finds a little shed and they usher Molly-dog inside of it and he has her leave her bag and bow inside with the quiet explanation that if shit does wrong, they don’t wanna lose their shit. Coretta keeps her gun on her. He keeps his knife on his arm. Everything else is stashed away, just in case. Coretta rasps out an order at Molly-dog for her to keep quiet. She’ll obey for awhile at least. Coretta hopes anyway. Merle braces the shed’s door shut at the bottom and they go meet back up with the others. It seems Merle and Rick have a similar thought process because Rick ain’t got his blue duffel bag anymore. 

“We’ll climb the fence, go in the back,” Rick tells them before doing just that. Coretta ain’t exactly thrilled to be doing this. Her hands hurt like a bitch still and using them at all is a bad time, but Rick’s Bossman again so she swallows her irritation and climbs up after Merle who’s bitching the whole time about how he’s only got the one hand and his knife arm ain’t the most efficient thing for this. Daryl follows behind her silently. Coretta’s whole body jars painfully when she hits the ground and she really fuckin’ misses the prison. At least if she were this fucked up there, Hershel would be ordering her to take a day or two to rest. Out here, ain’t no time for any of that. 

Coretta sticks close to Merle on instinct as they follow Rick through the train yard and into one of the buildings. She ain’t sure what she’s expecting when they enter the building but a lady speaking into a mic isn’t one of them. In all fairness though, from the startled looks they get when Rick steps forward, she ain’t sure they were expecting visitors either. Coretta’s eyes narrow on the weaselly looking man that breaks the awkward silence, “I bet Albert was on perimeter watch.”

Coretta’s got a bad feeling. She don’t have a clue what the hell is going on or why she feels like they need to leave, but she don’t like the cold look in this guy’s eyes. He’s smiling but his eyes are dead. Coretta’s entirely convinced they made a mistake coming here. A glance at Daryl tells her he’s thinking the same thing. Whatever this is, it ain’t a fuckin’ sanctuary.


	78. Chapter 78

She’s pissed. She’s royally fuckin’ pissed. They got herded into a fuckin’ train car, without their weapons, by goddamn gunfire. She’s beyond fuckin’ pissed. They’re in a fuckin’ dark ass train car and they found Glenn and Maggie and Sasha and even fuckin’ Bob, but they’re fuckin’ captives so she’s fuckin’ pissed. It don’t help that she can’t stand the friends Glenn and Maggie went and made. 

A cure. The asshole with the mullet says he’s some kinda fuckin’ scientist and he’s got the fuckin’ cure and she don’t fuckin’ buy it for a goddamn second. Classified her fuckin’ ass. He’s full of shit and the fact the redhead asshole buys it would be fuckin’ hilarious if her own people didn’t buy it too. The idiot is selling snake oil and her people are buying it and they’re all trapped in a goddamn train car and she is pissed. 

Rick is crazypants again, but the good crazypants. The one that rips out throats with his fuckin’ teeth and gets shit done. She likes this Rick. This Rick ain’t one to be fucked with. She’s sharpening a random ass piece of wood into a shank or some shit despite her hands being in agony and he’s got shit handled and the fact everyone seems as pissed as her is soothing. Anger gets shit done. Anger makes things happen. 

She nearly stabs the scientist idiot when he gets in her bubble. She has a very large personal space bubble after the past few days and the fact they’re all shoved into a fuckin’ train car is already making it difficult to maintain her cool. When the mullet asshole gets within arms length of her, it’s only Merle— who’s arm knife was taken— dragging him back and away that keeps her from testing her homemade weapon on him on instinct. 

“Shit! I get it, Doll, ya don’t like people near ya, but in case ya ain’t notice, we’re all fuckin’ stuck in here! So yer gonna have ta suck it up for a bit,” Merle snaps at her before anyone else can get involved, mainly the redhead fuck who’s obsessed with keeping Mullet alive. 

“I sincerely apologize. I was not aware that you possess a phobia of people within close proximity to you. I merely wanted to see if I could perhaps weaken the integrity of this structure’s frame,” Mullet— Eugene— sounds apologetic and mildly frightened despite his weird flat way or talking. 

Coretta narrows her eyes at him before returning to sharpening her wood into a weapon and her voice is still raspy as she snarls, “Just stay the fuck away from me, Snake Oil.”

“I assure you, I am not selling snake oil. I do indeed have the cure and need to reach D.C to—“ 

“I don’t give a fuck. I just want ya ta shut the—“ Coretta cuts off when Daryl speaks from where he’s watching for people in one of the openings of the train car. 

“They’re comin’!” His voice is sharp as he speaks and she knows he’s fully focused on their captors. 

“Alright, remember go for their eyes and throats,” Rick orders as everyone scrambles into standing positions, homemade weapons up and eyes focused on the door of the train car. Coretta is tense and she ain’t sure what’s gonna happen beyond the fact that she’s gonna end up with even more blood on her hands. She ignores the fact that each new kill sits a little easier on her conscience than the last one. 

“Everyone, stand backs against the walls on either end of the train car! Now!” There’s a voice outside yelling at them and no one rushes to obey. They stay waiting for the door to open. 

She’s not sure anyone is expecting the roof to open instead. Or for a fuckin’ can of tear gas to get dropped in. Redhead asshole, Abraham, shouts the obvious, “Get down!”

Coretta ends up in the far end of the train car, beside Merle and Sasha, and she’s choking on the gas and trying to cover her face with her shirt. Her eyes are burning and she’s disoriented and the coughing makes her throat hurt even worse. Coretta is too busy trying to breathe to do anything when the train car doors open. She can hear people struggling and being taken away, but her eyes are burning and watering and she’s choking on tear gas. It’s not until the door closes again and the gas clears out that she’s able to start to piece together what the fuck just happened. 

They fuckin’ tear gassed them. They took Rick and Glenn and Bob and Daryl. They took their people. They took Daryl. If Coretta was pissed before, she’s a whole new level of pissed. She can’t honestly say this is the first time she’s planned in advance to kill someone considering the Woodbury mess, but she can damn sure say this is the first time she’s planned it happily. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Merle snarls as he staggers to his feet. His eyes are red and he’s coughing too and she just knows someone is gonna die before this shit is over. He don’t tolerate this kinda bullshit and he damn sure don’t tolerate people fuckin’ with Daryl. 

“They took ‘em. Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Bob. Why the hell did they take them?” Sasha hisses from beside Coretta. 

Coretta hadn’t understood why they hadn’t just killed them from the get go. Why they’d herded them into a train car instead. Keeping prisoners takes resources and it ain’t worth it these days. Keeping them alive and captive don’t make no fuckin’ sense. She don’t say it, but she figures they’re gonna execute them in small batches. Do it quietly. Save the bullets. It’s the only thing that makes sense to her. 

Abraham is cursing and looking through the gaps in the train car and she guesses he’s assuming control of this mess with Rick gone, because he starts ordering them to keep working on their makeshift weapons. They need to be prepared, after all. Coretta would snarl at him but her eyes are burning still and she’s dealt with too much bullshit lately and unless she gets a free pass for killing the redhead, she ain’t gonna engage with him ‘til she ain’t pissed anymore. 

Merle has himself set up between her and everyone else as she returns to sharpening her shank thing. Sasha has joined Maggie on the other end and they’re speaking rapidly and Michonne is silently and calmly making a fuckin’ spear out of her sword’s sheath. Carl is pacing. Coretta ignores the four newcomers entirely. She don’t know them and she ain’t thrilled to be stuck with them. 

“Hey, Doll, listen here, when we get outta here, ya stick by me, got it? Don’t need ta be chasin’ Daryl an’ you,” Merle taps his own makeshift knife on the ground to draw her attention up to him. 

She nods tightly and manages to mutter, “Knew this place was bullshit.”

If the situation wasn’t so bad, she’s pretty sure that’d get a laugh outta the older man. Instead, his pale blue eyes are ice cold and his voice is dark when he answers her, “Gonna make ‘em bleed for it.”

She ain’t sure why, but that makes a smile slide across her face and she knows it’s anything but sweet, “Good.”

Merle nods at her response and the group is silent as they wait for something to happen. The whole place shakes with the familiar feeling only explosions have and it startles the fuck outta everyone. When the sounds of gunfire and screams start up outside it draws them all to the gaps in the train car, trying to see what’s happening. Coretta sticks near Merle like he told her and Carl is within grabbing distance if they need to get the kid. 

She can barely make out people running through the gap she and Merle are looking through. There’s walkers on fuckin’ fire and Coretta’s gonna lose her everloving shit if they don’t get the hell out right fuckin’ now. Merle and Abraham are apparently in the same boat because both start banging on the train car door and hollering. Trying to either force their way out or get let out. This is a goddamn nightmare and Coretta still has no fuckin’ idea what the hell is going on. 

There’s the sound of a second explosion from somewhere else and she starts cackling. One is an accident. Two is an attack. She’s cackling like a fuckin’ lunaticdespite the pain in her throat because, even if the chances of it being him are low, this is some shit Jesse would pull. 

“Hey! Can you quit laughing? There’s nothing funny about this!” One of the new girls, Rosita, she thinks, snaps at her. 

“Coretta, please, we need to focus,” Maggie sounds like she’s not sure what to do with Coretta’s mild break with sanity. 

Merle just shakes his head, “Doll’s fine. Just likes fire.”

“I see Rick!” Abraham calls out, “Everyone get ready, outside is a true shitstorm and we are all fuckin’ making it through!”

Her laughter dies with a painful cough just as the train car doors fly open and Rick is screaming at them to get out and stay together. Daryl has a fuckin’ metal stick in his hand and Glenn and Bob have their own makeshift weapons. Coretta doesn’t pause to process what’s happening. Just gets the fuck out of the train car and runs wherever the fuck Rick says to run. 

They’re running through buildings and around dead people and burning walkers like hell itself is after them. They run through one building and she nearly freezes in place when she see human body parts hanging from meat hooks. Now she gets it and really fuckin’ wishes she didn’t. It’s Daryl that grabs her arm and yanks her back into a run with a sharp order, “Move, woman! Ain’t got time ta sight see!”

Coretta bolts again. Daryl keeps a firm hold on her arm until they’re out of that building and then lets go of her like she burned him. She’s too focused on getting the fuck out of the human slaughterhouse to care that someone touched her. She just wants to get the fuck out. 

She’s not sure she’s ever climbed a fence so fast in her entire fuckin’ life. She’s got no idea what’s going on, but she’s flying up the chainlink like a goddamn spider monkey and she’s too worked up to even feel the burns on her hands. The whole group is running as soon as they hit the ground. She needs a second to know where Rick is taking them. Back to the area their shit is stashed. Thank god. She has her bow and knife in that shed. And the dog. She hopes the dog is still there anyway. 

They only stop running when they reach Rick’s little hidey-hole for the duffel bag full of weapons he left. Merle whistles sharply at them and drawls that they’re gonna go grab the rest of their shit.

“We shouldn’t separate,” Glenn argues automatically. 

“Ain’t separating, Doll’s comin’ with me. Gotta get the damn dog,” Merle snorts. 

“I’ll go with ‘em,” Daryl says more than offers as he falls into step beside Coretta. 

It’s only a few minute walk to the shed and they end up having to put down about five walkers that have surrounded it. She can hear Molly-dog losing her shit inside the shed. Merle has to grab the dog when she comes shooting out of the shed like a bat outta hell, “Shit! Easy, dog. Fuckin’ hell, heel!”

Molly-dog takes three more commands before she settles enough to listen. Coretta’s got her bag back on and her knife on her hip and she’s checking her bow over as they walk back to the group. 

She’s not expecting to see Carol when they make it back to the group. The woman’s face is covered in walker blood and she’s got Daryl’s crossbow. Daryl is running forward and hugging the woman without a thought. Best friends those two are. Rick is staring at her like he’s seeing a ghost and he sounds absolutely baffled as he gestures at the smoke rising from terminus, “Did you do all that?”

Carol releases Daryl and smiles, “I did most of it.”

Coretta blinks and rasps out, “Most?”

That draws Carol’s attention to her and before Coretta can blink, the gray haired woman is engulfing her in a hug too and Coretta’s clinging to her like a fuckin’ lifeline and she’s pretty sure she’s crying as she mutters a thousand apologies to the woman for not being able to help Sophia. Carol just hugs her tighter and murmurs back, “There’s nothing you could have done.”

Carol releases her and answers her question, “Your brother caused the second explosion. He should be here soon.”

Coretta’s throat tightens at hearing that, “Ya got Jesse?”

“The boys too, Tyreese has them,” Carol smiles widely as Coretta fights to hold back tears of joy at hearing that. 

Coretta is nearly vibrating with joy as Carol steps away to speak to Rick and Carl. Molly-dog is calmer now too and she’s investigating every single person with the excitement of a dog that’s never been hurt by people, but there’s a new wariness to it still, like she’s waiting for a reason to bite them. It’s been a long few days for everyone, she supposes, dog included. 

Her brother’s voice calling her name makes her whip around and she gets just enough time to say his name back before he’s picking her up and spinning her around in one of his rare bear hugs. Coretta buries her face into his chest like she’s a child again and he’s laughing wildly at her as she clings to her brother. When she lets him go, he whistles low as he gets a good look at her, “Shit, ‘Retta, hell happened ta ya?”

“Been a rough couple days, where’re my sons?” She doesn’t even care that her throat still hurts, she just wants her sons. 

“Not far, left ‘em with Tyreese, but hey, ya should know, before ya see ‘em, that some shit happened,” Jesse sounds like he’s terrified of her reaction even as he picks up Merle’s knife arm thing and hands it to the man. She guesses Jesse found it somewhere.

“What?” She narrows her eyes and braces for what she doubts is anything good. 

“Ya remember Lizzie? Little crazy girl?” Jesse starts as they fall into line to follow carol back to where Tyreese is. 

“Yes?” She doesn’t like where this is going. That girl has issues. 

“She tried to killed Mika. I don’t really know what the fuck happened, but Mason stopped her. He’s fine, but his face is kinda cut up an’ he, uh, he killed Lizzie,” Jesse says the last part quick, all in one breath. 

“He killed her?” Her baby killed a kid. Her baby got cut up. She ain’t sure how to respond to that. 

“Yeah. He seems fine. Ain’t actin’ weird or nothin’, just been clinging hard to Kes now. And Red, but that’s normal, I think? Also, Mika ain’t said a word since it happened,” Jesse keeps his voice low as they reach the little house. Tyreese steps out and he’s holding Judith and there’s Red by his leg, growling like he’s gonna fight someone, and Mika is pressed against the man’s leg. Coretta’s eyes find her sons immediately. Mason has Keston tucked behind him and he’s glaring at everyone like he’s daring them to be a problem. His face is cut up. He’s got an angry red cut going diagonally across is face and she know he’s luckier than the devil that he didn’t lose an eye. 

Then he and Keston notice her and they’re shrieking their excitement and that’s enough to jar her out of her shock at what Jesse just told her. She’s on her knees and hugging them so tightly she worries she’s gonna suffocate them. Keston is crying into her shirt and she’s kissing their foreheads over and over before peeling them off her to check them over. 

Mason’s face falls a little as he calms down and he says real softly, “I had ta do it, Momma. Couldn’t let her kill nobody. I had ta.”

Coretta wants to cry for her son. Wishes he hadn’t needed to do that. Instead she just nods and sighs, “I know, baby. It’s all right. Ya did whatcha had ta do. I’m sorry ya needed ta.”

Molly-dog is slamming into Keston and whining excitedly as she licks him before launching herself at Mason and giving him the same treatment. Coretta’s not expecting Keston to shriek what he does next. Her littlest baby’s face is lit up with joy as he spots Daryl and his voice is all squeaky when he runs to the man and slams into his legs, “Daddy!”

Coretta freezes and so does everyone else that’s not one of the newcomers. Keston doesn’t seem to notice he’s just babbling to Daryl, “Missed ya an’ momma! Uncle Jesse took me huntin’ but I don’t like huntin’ with him as much an’ Mason said we weren’t ever gonna see ya again, but I said he was wrong and he was and can I have a piggyback ride? Please, please?”

Daryl looks like he has no idea what to do except for wordlessly crouch down so Keston can scramble up onto his back. He’s got a deer in the headlights look and he’s staring at her like he’s begging her for help. Even Merle is silent after that display. Coretta has no idea how to handle this development. She just got her kids and her brother back and Mason killed another kid and their group is together again with a few new additions and of everything that’s happened, Keston calling Daryl “Daddy” is the thing that short circuits her brain a little. She has no fuckin’ clue how to handle that one. 


	79. Chapter 79

They set up camp that night in the woods and Coretta keeps the boys close to her as they settle down for the night. Jesse is looking over the compound bow Rick took off the guys that tried to kill them and she knows it’s been a long time since he’s used one. It looked alright when she checked it out, if he likes it, she figures they’ll end up with another person toting arrows around. They don’t light a fire tonight, wary of attracting the attention of any walkers or people in the area. 

Coretta’s smoking a cigarette and watching the darkness, Red and Molly-dog are twitching at every little sound and she figures they’re a decent alarm system.Everyone is laid out in the dirt or against the trees and it’s quiet except for the uneasy motions of her people trying to get settled for the night. 

She sighs out smoke when Daryl comes to sit nearby quietly. He’s careful not to get too near her, like he’s worried she’ll freak again. She offers him a smoke wordlessly and watches as it’s lit. They don’t speak for a minute, but it’s her that breaks the silence, “Sorry for pointin’ a gun at ya. Shouldn’t’ve done that.”

He grunts a little, “S’fine. Just don’t do it again. Ya alright now?”

Coretta exhales a lungful of smoke, “‘Sides the fact everythin’ fuckin’ hurts an’ Mason killed someone? I’m doin’ great.”

He’s silent for a moment before drawling, “Didn’t think I’d see y’all again.”

“Knew I’d find ya again,” She responds immediately, “Didn’t think for a second I wouldn’t.”

“Saw ya go in D-block an’ then the fuckin’ tank blew a hole in it. Never saw ya come out,” He sounds like he hates thinking of it. 

“So ya figured we were dead,” She concludes easily, “Fair enough.”

“What happened out there?Got a hand print on yer face,” Daryl’s voice has a growl in it as he mentions it. 

“Merle went ta set snares. Some guys should up at the house we were holed up in. Had ta fight,” Coretta don’t like thinking about it, but she manages to answer without getting twitchy. 

Daryl goes quiet again and when he speaks she can hear the fury in his voice, “Fuckers deserve whatever they got.”

“Merle let ‘em turn,” She offers, “An’ Molly-dog ate one.”

In the dark she can just make out him nodding, “Good.”

She shifts and glances down at where Keston is curled up around Mason, “Hey, I get if Keston callin’ ya that freaked ya out. If ya want, I’ll talk ta him ‘bout it.”

“S’fine, but I ain’t no dad material. Y’know that, right? Dunno how ta do that shit,” Daryl shakes his head, “Told ya ta find someone else.”

Coretta rolls her eyes and stands up. She crosses the short distance between them and settles back down beside him, leaning against his shoulder after a moment’s hesitation, “Quit tryin’ ta get rid of me. Ya ain’t gotta be their daddy, but the boys already think ya hung the fuckin’ moon, so yer doin’ fine.”

Daryl is tense for a moment at the contact before relaxing, “Y’all gonna kill me one day, y’know that?”

“I’ll make sure ya die happy if it helps,” She teases before saying softly, “I missed the hell outta ya, Dixon.”

She blows smoke out as she watches his head turn away from her and he mutters, “Knock it off, woman.”

“Don’t lie, ya missed me too. I know ya did,” she grins in the darkness as she watches his cigarette burn a little brighter as he inhales. He’s warm against her side and if they weren’t out in the woods and they could be alone for awhile, she thinks she’d be showing him how much she missed him now that she’s not half batshit from stress. 

“‘Course I did,” he finally mumbles around a mouthful of smoke, “‘Course I fuckin’ missed ya.”

Coretta smiles quietly at the admission and leans over to brush a kiss across his cheek, “Kept me waitin’ too long, y’know that? Makin’ me miss ya so bad, it ain’t right.”

That gets a snort from Daryl, “Here now, ain’t I?”

“Don’t go runnin’ off on me again, Dixon, got plans for when we find a place,” She grins wickedly around her cigarette, “Gonna need ya for ‘em.”

“That so?” He drawls in that low, gravel voice she likes so much. 

“Sure is. Might have ta wait ‘til I ain’t all fucked up, but I got plans,” She nods, “Ya keepin’ watch tonight?”

“Yeah, me an’ Rick an’ Abraham gonna keep watch,” He nods as he answers, “Should try ta sleep.”

Coretta nods as she puts her cigarette out on the sole of her boot, “Sir, yessir. Hey, one more thing, I know yer worried ‘bout Beth, but we’ll find her. Ain’t failed ta find someone yet.”

Daryl is silent for a moment, but before she gets up to go back to her boys, he leans towards her and kisses her on the mouth, softer than any kiss he’s given her yet and quicker than lightning, “Hershel was right ‘bout ya.”

Coretta tilts her head as she stands up, “That right?”

“Yeah, told me ya were a faith keeper or some shit,” Daryl sounds almost embarrassed as he says it. Like he thinks it sounds stupid out loud. 

She hums a little, “Said somethin’ like that ta me too. Maybe he was on ta somethin’. After yer done on watch, come join me an’ the boys. It’s gettin’ colder out here.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything back, but she can feel his eyes on her as she walks back to her sons and lies down beside them. It takes them no time at all to end up moving over in their sleep to press up against her like puppies. The fact the dogs are there too makes for a pretty solid pile of bodies for warmth. 

It’s the same uneasy sleep everyone has out in the woods, jerking out of a half sleep every hour or so, and she’s colder than she’d like to be. Eventually though, she feels a familiar body lie down beside her and one strong arm comes across her waist. Coretta sleeps a little easier after that, with Daryl there to help chase the cold off. 

By morning, Daryl has already disappeared, but it’s alright. The group is huge now, over twenty people, so what food they have is split into fuckin’ tiny portions and camp gets broken with the same practiced ease it always it. They head through the woods, looking for a road or something since Abraham is bitching about trying to get to D.C. again. And everyone is onboard to some degree or another as far as she can tell. Coretta still thinks Eugene is full of shit, and Daryl ain’t goin’ anywhere until they find Beth, but it is what it is. If Abraham wants to go, ain’t nothin’ to be done for it. He and his group ain’t their family. 

Coretta wants there to be a cure, she really fuckin’ does, but she knows there ain’t nothin’ coming. Ain’t no way anything is gonna pan out. D.C. might be a good idea, might not be, but she don’t expect a cure any time soon. She doubts there’ll be one in her lifetime. Shit went to hell so fast after the new started reporting people eating each other that she ain’t sure there’s anyone or anything left able to solve it. It don’t matter, she supposes. She’s stuck with her family come hell or high water and if Bossman decides they should point themselves towards D.C. that’s what’s gonna happen. 

Mason and Keston are kept in the middle of the group with Mika and Carl as everyone walks. The dogs amble along beside Coretta and she notices Red is skinnier than he should be, but there’s nothing she can do for that right now. Truth is, everyone is gonna be skinnier than they should be soon enough. Daryl is up at the front with Rick, and Jesse is somewhere behind her bickering with Merle over something. Everyone else is spread out in a loose circle. She don’t mention the fact Eugene is in the middle with the kids. She idly wonders if he has any idea how to protect himself. 

She ain’t expecting to hear someone screaming for help. She ain’t expecting Carl to take off running towards the noise either. Rick is shouting after him and everyone is running after the kid like he’s their new leader. She’s cursing a storm as they reach the source of the screams and pulls her boys close to her. Mason’s got his little kiddy bow out and even Keston’s pulled a knife out. Coretta sighs as she takes in the sight of a fuckin’ priest on a rock surrounded by fuckin’ walkers. She didn’t think priests were even a thing these days. Coretta is fuckin’ dumbfounded at seeing a fuckin’ priest truth be told. She’s more dumbfounded by the fact the idiot is out in the words with only the word of god for his fuckin’ protection. She ain’t sure how he’s made it this far based frankly. 

She narrows her eyes as she watches the man clamber down off the rock. Listens and watches intently as Rick takes him through the standard questions. Ain’t even killed a walker. Coretta ain’t sure why the fuck they’re following Father fuckin’ Gabriel to his fuckin’ church, but that’s what’s happening. She don’t know what to think of him, but he’s all shifty and twitchy and she doesn’t fuckin’ like it, but whatever. To church they’re fuckin’ going. 

She ain’t sure what she’s expecting of his little church in the middle of the fuckin’ woods, but this ain’t it. It’s well kept. It looks like it’s ready for when the Sunday service rolls around and Coretta has never wanted to burn a church down before, but she hates the fuckin’ church. She ain’t even got a good reason for it, other than that it has the fuckin’ audacity to look so nice when the rest of the world has fallen apart at the seams. She glares furiously around as she examines it. She’s only mollified by the very clear gouge marks near the windows that are proof even this place wasn’t entirely untouched. 

They’re gonna stay until they got supplies and cars. That’s Rick’s decision. Staying just long enough to rest up and restock and they’ll be on their way. Coretta feels fuckin’ weird staying in a goddamn church but Bossman’s made a decision. So be it. 

She paces through the pews and looks through everything, casually picking up one of the Bibles kept on the backs of the pews and flipping through it lazily. Her momma taught her to read with the Bible. She remembers that. Her momma mighta been depressed and hardly moved most days, but she’d sit Coretta down at their table that rocked on one side because one of the legs was too short and make her practice reading with her old, wine stained Bible. She don’t even remember if her momma drank wine. But she remembers the wine stained cover and she remembers her daddy— who didn’t even fuckin’ believe— make her keep reading it after her momma was put in the ground. Coretta thinks she could quote half the damn Bible if she wanted too. 

“Are you a believer?” Father Gabriel appears in front of her like a fuckin’ ghost as she walks down another aisle, flipping pages of the Bible without actually reading it. 

“My Momma was,” Coretta let’s him take what he will from that answer. 

He’s got wide eyes and a nervous smile when he responds, “If you’d ever like to discuss God or if you have anything you’d like to confess, I’d be happy to take your confession.”

Coretta blinks slowly, “Ya do baptisms?”

“Of course, why? Would you like to be baptized?” If anything, he looks thrilled. 

“Nah, got baptized years ago. Ain’t never got my boys done, supposed ta get ya a ticket ta heaven, right?” Coretta ain’t a woman of faith these days, but she wouldn’t mind getting her boys a ticket to heaven on the off chance she’s wrong. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Gabriel offers another smile, “I’d be happy to explain it in detail for you.”

“Maybe some other time,” Coretta hums then reads out loud, “The Harvest is past, the summer has ended, and we are not saved.”

“Jeremiah eight-twenty. It’s talking about the despair of those who rejected the word of God,” Gabriel offers. 

“Tell me, priest, ya think we’re livin’ it out now?” She doesn’t really care about his answer, but she’s curious. She ain’t sure his answer matters. She’s just trying to get a feel for the man since he wanted to talk to her. 

“I don’t think It’s my place to say. God works in ways beyond our understanding,” Gabriel seems twitchy again. 

Rick interrupts before she can respond, “Is there anywhere we can scavenge supplies at?”

Coretta tilts her head and looks at Gabriel curiously. Gabriel hesitates a little too long before offering, “There’s a food bank in town.”

“Good, you’re gonna show us. Coretta, if anything happens while we’re gone, do whatever you need to,” Rick gives her that look that she’s come to learn is his _I’m trusting you_ look. She supposes the fact she can match his level of crazy from time to time is a positive in his eyes. 

“Gotcha covered, Bossman,” Coretta offers a lazy salute as he starts calling the people he’s taking on the run with him. Bob, Michonne, Glenn, Daryl, Carol, Merle. A big group, but a solid one. Shouldn’t have problems. 

Daryl pauses before leaving to press a kiss to the side of her head when no one is looking. He ruffles Keston’s and then Mason’s hair as he walks by them and goes to join the group leaving. Coretta watches silently as the group disappears out the door. 

Coretta settles down in a pew closest to the doors and alternates between watching the people staying and watching the door. She tosses the Bible down on the pew beside her and watches everyone get settled in the church. Carl comes slimming over to eye her from under the old sheriff’s hat he wears. 

“Yes sir?” She raises an eyebrow at the young teenager. 

“Me an’ dad found something outside,” he sounds bothered by it. 

“And what’s that?” She’d seen the outside of the church before they’d come in. Seen the places people had tried to get in. She fuckin’ hates churches. 

“Someone carved into the wall outside,” Carl sounds even more weirded out thinking about it, “It says ‘You’ll burn for this’.”

“Well,” She drawls, “Even preachers are sinners. Ain’t any holier than us.”

“You’re not worried?” Carl is eyeing her like she’s insane. 

“He’s one man. We ain’t got nothin’ ta fear from a single man,” She smiles slightly at the boy, “The word of God ain’t much in terms of protection. Not if he tries anything.”


	80. Chapter 80

Coretta is debating whether she wants to risk getting smote for smoking in a church when Rick and the rest finally show up with their supplies and the bus at the church is working now. Which is great, except they’re missing Daryl, Carol, and Merle. And no one has a fuckin’ clue where they went. Which pisses Coretta off good and easy. She focuses on helping with the supplies so she doesn’t take her irritation out on everyone else. There’s a little medicine, but mostly food and a lot of water jugs. A little ammo too. She guesses they hit more than just a food bank. 

Mika is still practically hiding behind Tyreese while the man carries Judith around. Jesse is letting Keston try and wrestle him to the ground. Carl is watching Gabriel like a fuckin’ hawk as the man comes back in the church with Rick. Mason has a pocketknife our and he’s carving his name into the back of a pew. The dogs are snoring underneath the pew Mason is fuckin’ up. 

Coretta is helping carry in a box of canned food when Rick pulls her aside, “Everything was good?”

“Yeah, feels like we’re bein’ watched though,” She drawls with an irritated huff, “Also, How’d y’all lose three whole people? Like I get if ya lose Carol or Daryl for a minute, they’re kinda quiet, but Merle? Man barely knows how to be quiet.”

“I dunno, Coretta. One minute they were there, next they weren’t,” Rick sounds as irritated over it as she does, “They’re strong though, they’ll be fine and we’ll chew them out for it when they get back. You said it feels like we’re being watched?”

“Yeah, Carl an’ a few of the others all feel it too. An’ it’s less Holy Ghost watchin’ over us feelin’ and more Horror movie kinda feelin’,” Coretta don’t like it. Makes her skin itch, makes her even twitchier than usual. 

“Yeah, thought something felt off on the way back. Father Gabriel’s hidin’ something. We’ll keep an eye out,” Rick says it firmly, like it’s not even a question that the priest isn’t completely trustworthy. 

“Sure thing, Bossman,” Coretta agrees without hesitation. Rick’s the only person she’ll follow these days, crazy as he can be, and as often as she’ll question him, he’s decent at keeping the group alive and together and that means something these days. 

By the evening, their people still aren’t back yet, but they’re eating well. Beans mostly. But it’s still better than nothing and they’re comfortable in the safety of the church. Her boys are eating enough for ten kids and even the dogs are getting fed, some canned dog food Glenn found. 

She’s kicked back on one of the pews near the front and she’s itching for a cigarette, but she ain’t gonna smoke in a church and she needs to cut back anyway. Wade was supposed be the chainsmoker. She was the stress smoker. Problem is she’s always stressed these days. 

She’s not expecting Tyreese to take a seat by her. They don’t know each other well, but she knows he’s a kind man, knows he helped keep her boys safe and that’s enough to earn him a permanent place in her good books. She offers him a smile, “Everythin’ good, man?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. I just, I just wanna apologize, for Mason, y’know?” Tyreese looks genuinely upset over what happened as he looks down at his hands, “We didn’t think Lizzie would ever do something like that. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left them alone. I shouldn’t have—“

“It ain’t yer fault,” She cuts him off with a slight shake of her head, “Lizzie weren’t right in the head, but ya couldn’t‘ve known she’d do what she did. Ain’t no way of predictin’ that shit. It ain’t yer fault.”

“Still, I’m sorry for what Mason had to do, because we weren’t watching. If you’d seen him after, you’d never forgive us and I wouldn’t blame you,” Tyreese runs a hand over his head, “I tried to save Lizzie, so she didn’t die, so he didn’t have to live with that. I tried, but I couldn’t and— and that’s on me. Because I should have been paying closer attention. Because I should have kept them a little closer.”

Coretta plays with her plastic fork and sighs, “Tyreese, things happen sometimes. Ain’t no rhyme or reason ta it. They just happen an’ I don’t blame ya or anyone else. So don’t be blamin’ yerself either. ‘Sides, I’m the reason he went for a kill.”

“What?” Tyreese gives her a look like he’s not sure what she just said. 

“When things went ta shit, I took my boys out ta this old shine shack in the woods. Told Mason, when I wasn’t there, shoot anything that’s walkin’ on two legs. Don’t hesitate, don’t ask questions, just do it. Told him ta do whatever he needed ta keep him an’ Keston alive,” She offers him a bitter smile, “I knew one day he might have ta kill someone, was just hopin’ that day would never come. Or at least, come a lot later than it did.”

Tyreese looks sad when he hears that and his voice sounds resigned when he responds, “Never imagined living in a world where mommas would have to teach their babies to kill, much less one where those babies would actually have to do it.”

“Ain’t what I thought the world would be either,” She sets her plate on the pew beside her and looks up at the ceiling, “Should be playing sports, going ta school, things like that. Instead, he ain’t even ten years old an’ he’s seen more terrible things than most adults do in their whole lives.”

Tyreese starts to respond, but Abraham stands up and raises his water in the air, “I look around this room and I see survivors, every single one of you, that’s what you are, survivors. So I’d like to propose a toast! To the survivors!”

Coretta rolls her eyes but raises her voice to join everyone else’s in their toast, “To the survivors!”

Coretta’s less amused as he turns the conversation to going to D.C and curing the fuckin’ world. She still thinks it’s a goddamn pipe dream. The world is what it is now and there ain’t no going back. Can’t get it back to where it was. Not now, not ever. This is just the fuckin’ world now. Even if they cured the walkers, got rid of all of ‘em, the people ain’t just gonna go back to normal. The infection opened Pandora’s box and it’s too late to close it back up. 

She hardly notices when Bob steps out a little after Rick agrees that their group is gonna help take Eugene to DC once their people come back. Tyreese stands up to go, but she stops him for a moment, “What happened? Don’t go blamin’ yerself. It ain’t yer fault. Don’t be carryin’ that ‘round with ya, alright?”

Tyreese smiles down at her and nods a little before walking back to his sister. She turns her gaze back to watching her sons. Keston is trying to get Mika to talk to him. Mason is rubbing the cut on his face as he alternates between watching Keston and Mika and talking to Jesse. Her boys are alright. They’re here and alive and they’re gonna be fine and that’s everything to her right now. 

At some point, she guesses Michonne mentioned to Maggie that she’s got stitches in her arm and the brunette calls her over and has her pull her sleeve down so she can look at it. Coretta doesn’t so much as twitch as she pokes at it carefully. Maggie hums a little and looks at her, “How long they been in?”

“Couple days now, I guess. Tore the day after I first put ‘em in, had ta do it again,” Coretta raises one shoulder in a shrug. 

“Probably take ‘em out in a few more days,” Maggie nods more to herself than anything before sitting back and looking at her, “You don’t think the cure is real.”

“I think we ain’t that lucky,” She drawls. 

“What if we are, though? Don’t you think it’s worth the risk?” Maggie counters softly. 

“Think it’s chasin’ an empty promise, but if the group is headin’ that way, I’m with y’all,” Coretta assures her, “Don’t think I need ta believe in a pipe dream ta stick with the group.”

“It’s not a pipe dream, you’ve heard him talk, he’s a scientist, he has the cure,” Maggie presses, “All this is gonna end.”

Coretta just smiles as she stands up and walks away, throwing over her shoulder a single word, “Maybe.”

When Sasha starts asking where the hell Bob disappeared off to not long after, Coretta can taste the tension in the air. Rick gets that same dangerous look her gets whenever he feels the group is being threatened and zeroes in on the priest. Coretta and Jesse both circle lazily around the pair as the former sheriff forces answers out of the priest. 

The story he gives is as sad as it is despicable and Coretta thinks again of the people she drove on by the night the world ended and thinks she understands, even if why she drove by and why he left the doors locked are polar opposites. Locking people out who needed his help when he had no reason not to help. Listening to their screams, having to bury them after. Being alone for over a year now. She gives the priest props. He ain’t nowhere near as batshit as she’d expect someone to be after that. 

She believes him when he says he’s alone. He sounds as confused as he does scared as Rick continues tearing into him. She don’t think he’s a brave man, but she don’t think he’s a liar. A glance at Jesse’s face, his jaw tense but his expression bored, tells her he feels the same way about the man.

Then Sasha spots Bob out in the grass and shit royally hits the fan. He ain’t got a fuckin’ leg. He’s bit. He comes to and tells them all about how the fuckin’ cannibals at his leg in front of him. How the leader, the weaselly fucker named Gareth, said they were gonna eat all of them. Well. Coretta takes one look at Rick’s face and knows things are only going to get bloodier tonight. 

Abraham raises fuckin’ hell. Wants to pack up and fuck off into the night. Coretta is right there beside Rick shouting the redhead down. They ain’t leaving without their people. Daryl, Merle, Carol. They ain’t leaving until they come back. Ain’t gonna happen. She nearly twists off on Glenn when he and Maggie agree to split off to join the idiots tomorrow whether or not their people come back. Jesse has to pull her away to keep her from fucking up the deal. They get help, Glenn and Maggie leave no matter what. Coretta hates it. They just got their family back together and this sounds like bullshit to her. 

Still. There’s nothing to be done for it. They wanna go, they can go. She focuses on Rick’s plan instead and fuck, is it brutal. Hiding everyone who ain’t a fighter in one of the two rooms off the church and walking out. Letting the cannibals in and trapping them. Murder in a fuckin’ church. She never thought she’d be doing some shit like that. 

She ushers her boys into the room Tyreese is in— the dogs too— and slips out after Rick, Jesse close to her side. She’s got nothing but her bow and her knife and Jesse’s tapping his own knife rhythmically against his leg as Rick leads them all out into the dark. Making a huge damn circle around the church. She can barely see shit in the darkness, but they manage just fine. When they slip back into the church, she can count out about nine people in the second before Rick shoots the ringleader in the fuckin’ leg. Coretta is tense as anything as she waits for the signal. 

She has no fuckin’ idea what promise Rick is saying he made, but the moment that red-handled Machete comes down, She’s putting her knife into the back of the head of the woman kneeling closest to her. She don’t feel the need to make it near as brutal as Sasha is being with her kill. She just wants it over with Jesse’s got his own guy on the ground and there’s a sickening sound on a neck breaking before he puts his own knife in the man’s skull. Abraham and Maggie aren’t near as clean. They’re beating theirs to death with their guns. 

The whole experience is messy and brutal and Coretta is oddly fine with it. She ain’t sure if she’s just getting used to doing terrible shit or if there’s something wrong with her, but she decides it’s best not to dwell on it as they start dragging the bodies out of the church. Idly, she wonders if God is gonna be pissed at them for getting his church bloody. As she and Jesse drag her kill out, she decides it don’t really matter. The end times are already here, after all. 


	81. Chapter 81

Coretta smokes a cigarette on the back pew as she watches Glenn and Maggie climb up in the bus to leave with Abraham’s group. It leaves a dust cloud behind it and when it’s out of sight, she turns back to watch the priest scrubbing furiously at the blood stained floor. He’s been at it since he first saw the bloodstains this morning and she’s sure his fingers are rubbed raw. She wants to tell him he ain’t ever getting the stains off that old wood floor, but she don’t think he’s gonna hear it. 

Bob gets buried not long after he finally passes and Gabriel pauses his cleaning long enough for them to have a small service. No one is crying, not even Sasha. These days, death is so common, crying over it doesn’t happen near as often as it should. They’re getting numb to death and Coretta can’t say if that’s a good or bad thing. It just is. 

At least they know their people are fine. Bob said the cannibals had mentioned seeing them drive off. Coretta is irritated by that, but she knows they’ll come back eventually. Carol’s got Mika and Daryl ain’t just gonna ditch her and Merle goes where Daryl does. She’ll be pissed when they get back, but at least she knows they’re coming back. 

Coretta’s got the dogs out while she watches the kids outside with Tyreese bouncing Judith in his arms. Mika ain’t playing or talking. Just kinda standing there, but at least she ain’t clinging to Tyreese’s pants anymore. Mason keeps glancing out towards the surrounding trees and he and Keston play with Red and Molly-dog. Keston has been clinging to her more than he used to and only leaves her sight most of the time if Mason is with him. 

It’s just before noon when Daryl and Merle show back up with some scrawny, limping kid and no Carol. Coretta whistles sharply to call her dogs and kids to her and eyes the newcomer warily, too irritated to spare the Dixons a glance. 

Merle doesn’t give a shit about her ignoring them though, and his laugh is booming when he speaks, “Said she’d be fuckin’ pissed, didn’t I? Fuckin’ called that shit.”

“Shut up,” Daryl hisses back before looking at her, “I—“

Coretta cuts him off as she looks the kid they brought back over, “Who’s this?”

Rick and everyone else is out now and it’s like a pack of dogs circling a new dog as they look the kid and the Dixons over. Daryl starts talking fast, he’s all keyed up, “This is Noah, he knows where Beth is. Got out. They got her an’ Carol in a hospital. Beth helped him get out.”

Coretta’s irritation mostly melts away at the knowledge that they know where Beth is. They can go get her. Just a damn shame Maggie and Glenn took off already. Maggie should be here when they get Beth back. 

Things move fast from there. They work over time to secure the church and make sure if a herd comes through, it sure as hell won’t get in. She’s helping nail windows shut and Mason and Keston are trailing along beside her. Neither are talking but they hand her nails every time she asks for one and she knows they’re pissed she’s leaving them behind with Michonne, Jesse, the priest, and the other kids while she goes with everyone else to get Beth back. But she ain’t staying behind this time. She’s ushering the kids inside when it’s time to go when Daryl pulls her aside and chews his thumb before saying, “Should stay instead of Claire.”

“Ain’t gettin’ left behind again. I’m comin’ an’ that’s that,” She snaps back. 

Daryl’s jaw works a minute and he’s scowling when he nods, “Can’t stop ya.”

“That’s right, Dixon. Just like I can’t stop ya when ya run off without so much as a heads up,” She drawls as she picks up the gun she gets to cart around for this little trip and heads towards the cars. 

“Gonna keep bein’ pissed ‘bout it? Didn’t have time, couldn’t lose the car I was tailin’,” He grits out as he hoists his bow over his shoulder and follows her. They’re taking two cars. A van and a little sedan type car. She’s in the sedan with Daryl and Merle while everyone else is piled into the van, her bow is tucked in the trunk with everything else they might need. Should be more than enough space for Beth and Carol when they get them. Merle has already claimed the back seat and has stretched out across it like they’re going on a Sunday fuckin’ drive so she’s riding shotgun while Daryl drives like its a fuckin’ NASCAR race. 

“I can still be pissed, we thought y’all were bein’ fuckin’ eaten by cannibals. Y’all get that? While y’all we’re dickin’ ‘round Atlanta, Bob’s leg was gettin’ ate an’ we were choppin’ up cannibals,” She snarls, glancing back at Merle so he knows he’s not free of her irritation. 

Merle raises his good hand in surrender, “Easy, Doll, don’t get pissed at me. I was just makin’ sure Darylina didn’t get his ass killed. ‘Sides, don’tcha still gotta tell him ‘bout yer little bug out plan from the prison? He thought you an’ those kiddos were dead.”

Coretta plays with the strap on her gun and pointedly doesn’t look at Daryl when that’s said. She can feel the man in question glance over at her, “Hell is he talkin’ ‘bout?”

Coretta sucks on her bottom lip and shrugs, “Kept bags ready in case shit hit the fan an’ I needed ta get the boys out. Jesse took the truck keys, said they were lost so we’d have a ride if we had ta go. An’ would ya look at that, we did have ta go.”

“How the hell’d y’all end up separated if y’all had a fuckin’ escape plan?” Daryl sounds irritated but no where near as pissed as he could have been. 

“Claire left her ass,” Merle drawls helpfully from the backseat. 

“I mean, basically,” Coretta pulls a face, “Shit happens.”

“Shit happens,” Daryl repeats, “Can chalk up me takin’ off ta that too.”

Coretta glares at the side of his head for that one but doesn’t argue that, just shakes her head, “Let’s just get this girl an’ get the fuck outta dodge.”

“S’what we’re doin’,” Daryl mutters. 

They fall into a tense silence and Coretta watches the trees go by as Daryl speeds down the road. She eventually ends up checking over her gun for something to do while Merle plays with the knife on his arm in the back. As always, it’s Merle who gets sick of the silence first, “Hey, Doll, there any CDs or some shit in here? If y’all gonna be all sulky, at least put some damn music on. Fuckin’ depressin’ ridin’ with y’all.”

Coretta rolls her eyes and checks for something and comes up empty, “Shit outta luck, Old man. Gonna have ta live with it.”

She can hear him suck on his teeth in displeasure and his voice is cajoling when he speaks again, “Well, ya could be my little songbird again. Sing me another pretty tune like ya did that first night. Yer voice don’t sound so fucked up no more.”

Coretta snorts, “Was drunk on moonshine an’ it got ya ta quit callin’ me sweet cheeks. Ya ain’t got anythin’ left ta trade for a song.”

“C’mon, Doll, one song for Ol’ Merle an’ I’ll find ya somethin’ good first chance I get,” She ain’t sure how the fuck he can get his voice all sugary sweet when he’s got that irritating grin on his face. 

“Yer worse than Keston, y’know that?” She tosses out with a glare. 

“That ain’t a no,” Merle sounds triumphant.

“Ain’t a yes,” She drawls. 

“I’ll find ya some clothes, getcha somethin’ that ain’t covered in blood an’ guts,” He drawls back, “Know that shit’s drivin’ ya up a wall.”

That makes her pause. She’s been wearing the same shit as the night she burnt that man alive and it’s been getting to her. They ain’t found time yet to go get her new clothes and she really fuckin’ wants new clothes. She sighs in defeat and waves a hand at him, “Got a song in mind or what?”

“Knew that’d getcha. Don’t matter none ta me. First thing ya think of will do,” Merle says magnanimously, “Actually, how ‘bout somethin’ ya used ta sing back when shit wasn’t bad. Somethin’ happy.”

Coretta tilts her head to stare back at the man for a second, “Somethin’ happy?”

“Yeah, y’know something that ain’t all sad an’ shit. Ya look like the type ta sing happy songs when yer drunk, or used ta anyway. So sing somethin’ happy,” Merle waves his hand in the air carelessly as he clarifies. 

Coretta glances at Daryl but he’s absorbed in not crashing the fuckin’ car with the speed they’re going. She sighs and tips her head back to think of a song that Merle might count as happy. She don’t really wanna be singing but she really wants new clothes and it’s an easy enough trade. The only song she can think of is a song her and Wade used to sing when they’d be drunk in the kitchen after the kids were put to bed and he’d spin her around their little trailer like it was a dance floor, _Hard not to Love it, Steve Moakler._ She thinks that’s happy enough. She sighs and sings the familiar tune while she watches the trees and walkers fly by as the city comes into view, _“We’ve been puttin’ time, rubbin’ nickels an’ dimes, addin’ up what we’re savin’. New tires on the truck, little coffee in your cup, whatcha wanna name the baby.”_

She watches as trees fade to buildings and Daryl has to slow to a crawl to navigate safely, _“You make a real good lover an’ a damn good friend. I said it once an’ I’ll say it again, you make a real good lover an’ a damn good friend.”_

They’re pulling up to some random abandoned building as she ends the song, _“Yeah, just a couple dreamers for the home team, hopin’ they can pull one through.”_

“See? Knew ya had a happy song in ya,” Merle drawls, “I’ll find ya somethin’ nice soon as we grab little miss Beth.”

Coretta rolls her eyes as she gets out of the car, “Ya better or Imma shoot ya in the ass with Daryl’s crossbow.”

That gets a snort from Daryl as he gets out, “Waste one of yer own arrows, woman.”

Coretta grins a little before turning her focus to Rick as they reach him and the rest of their little rescue group, “So how we doin’ this? I ain’t got the shit ta blow a buildin’ up but if that’s the route we wanna take, could probably scrounge somethin’ up.”

“No, no, we’re gonna do this quietly. Take a few hostages, see if we can force a trade,” Rick shakes his head and glances at Noah, “Will that work?”

“It should? You’re going to have to draw them out though,” Noah sounds extremely worried about this whole situation. 

“And how do we do that?” Sasha questions. 

“Like this,” Merle grins really wide and fires off a few rounds up and away from everyone. 

Coretta blinks slowly at the man as her ears ring, “Guess that’s one way of ringin’ the doorbell.”


	82. Chapter 82

They have hostages. Helpful hostages. Coretta supposes being surrounded by seven people with weapons who are royally pissed is a good motivator to behave. She leans against the wall and idly taps her nails against the side of her gun as she listens to the dude named Lamson talk about how to deal with their leader. Some lady named Dawn. Hearing that the woman is full of shit, that she’ll say she won’t compromise but always does is a bit of a relief. They’d like to do this without bloodshed. 

Coretta is pretty clear on the plan. Rick’s gonna go get the cop car to call the bitch up on the radio. Her and Sasha play babysitter to their tied up hostages until he gets back. Noah’s staying back and Merle is keeping guard by one of the doors. The Tyreese and Daryl are covering Rick while he gets to the cop car to talk to Dawn. Let her know he has her people. 

She’s hardly paying attention as the Lamson guy starts spinning some story about his cop friend getting napalmed to the asphalt instead of him. Doesn’t really pay attention until Sasha offers to put the walker that was his friend down for him. She does pay attention then. Pushes off from the wall and narrows her eyes as Sasha has the man stand up and show her where to go. Coretta asks as delicately as she can, “Sure this a good idea? Feedin’ an’ waterin’ hostages is one thing. Ain’t sure we’re supposed ta be takin’ ‘em on walks.”

Sasha shrugs, “Putting down one walker? It’s nothing. You should come too, if you’re worried.”

Coretta nods a little and falls in step behind Lamson, her hands tight on her gun, “Bored anyway. Let’s get this over with.”

She’s silent as Lamson directs them towards where they should be able to see the walker he wants killed. She don’t like it, but she gets it. He wants his friend put to rest. Wants him gone for real. She understands that as much as she ain’t a fan of this, but it’s fine. Ain’t like the other hostages are goin’ anywhere, Merle is set up outside the nearest exit with Noah in case something happens and he ain’t exactly tolerate of bullshit. 

He leads them down to the first floor. Leads them down to some random window. Coretta leans against the wall beside it as Sasha sets up the shot. Lamson ain’t done nothin’ so far to make her nervous, so aside from glancing at him occasionally she watches out the window in bored interest. The walkers really are melted down onto the asphalt, all red and naked and nasty looking and a bit like cooked meat. It’s freaky. She thinks she prefers the normal ones that at least don’t look like aliens. 

Then Lamson decides he’s gonna make a run for it. She ain’t sure what his logic is for body slamming Sasha into the window and then head butting Coretta hard enough to make her see stars, but she’s fuckin’ pissed as soon as her senses come back to her and she’s got her gun up and the safety off faster than she stops seeing stars. Rick wants hostages. Killing the asshole ain’t an option. Popping him in the fuckin’ leg is though. He’s nearly at the fuckin’ door when she fires off the shot. He goes down with a grunt and Coretta’s kinda hoping she managed to fuck his knee up as she checks over Sasha, dazed and coming back to consciousness with a nasty lump on her forehead, but fine as far as Coretta can tell. 

She saunters over at the groaning, bleeding man and looks down impassively when he yells, “You shot me!”

She just offers a shrug, “Shouldn’t’ve run. Ya think the guns were for show?”

Rick must have got back with the cop car because him, Daryl and Tyreese all come running in through the door like they’re expecting the worst. Tyreese runs to check in Sasha himself while Daryl and Rick drag Lamson up and to his feet as the man moans in pain. Rick gives her a look, “What happened?”

“Tried ta run. I ain’t tacklin’ a grown ass man. Figured givin’ him a limp would work just fine,” Coretta eyes the puddle of blood forming on the floor, “Might wanna get the bleedin’ stopped though. Don’t want him bleedin’ out.”

Daryl grunts, “Be a damn fuckin’ shame. How’d ya get that bruise?”

Coretta blinks in surprise. She did get head butted. Probably lucky she ain’t got a broken nose. She offers a lazy smile, “Blame it on knock off Houdini over here.”

Daryl’s eyes narrow and his jaw tightens, “Next time, don’t be lettin’ hostages walk ‘round.”

She laughs a little as they take him back to the rest, “I’ll keep that in mind. Sasha, ya good?”

“Hell of a headache, and I feel like a damn fool, but I’m fine,” Sasha sounds somewhere between pissed and resigned as she answers behind her. 

Things are a little tenser after that. No one takes an eye off the hostages while Rick goes to negotiate with Tyreese and Sasha as his snipers. It leaves her with both Dixons and the Noah kid. Merle’s kicked back with his knife arm resting on his knee while Daryl paces and chews his thumb. Noah looks squirrelly as shit where his sitting against the wall. Coretta’s doing a half assed patch job on Lamson’s newly fucked leg. She does enough that she figures he ain’t gonna bleed out, wraps the bleeding leg good and tight and figures his hospital buddies can fix him up later. 

Lamson is panting and hissing in pain as she tightens the bandages, “Look, I was just trying to get home. You would have done the same thing. I—“

“Hey, dumbfuck, I’mma let ya in on a secret, alright?” Coretta smiles sweetly at the man, “I don’t give half a shit what yer reasons were. I got the mother of all headaches right now, I’m pissed off, an’ yer gettin’ less an’ less valuable by the fuckin’ minute ta me. So shut the fuck up an’ be happy I ain’t just kill ya.”

The girl they have hostage tries to speak, “We just want to end this peacefully, for everyone to win.”

Coretta curls her lip as she stands up, “Tell that ta him. Not me.”

“Doll, I got a question,” Mere drawls behind her. 

Coretta turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow, “Shoot.”

“For such a little thing, ya sure know how ta take a hit. Ya get knocked around an’ ya act like it ain’t nothin’, why’s that?” Merle’s eyeing her with a suspicious kinda curiosity. Like he’s got a theory. She supposes hanging around Jesse didn’t get him a whole lot of information about her and Jesse’s past. 

Coretta shrugs and picks her gun back up from where she leaned it against the wall, “Cryin’ ‘bout it don’t do nothin’ but make ya look even worse.”

“So what ‘bout them burns all over yer arms?” Merle sounds bored asking. 

“Fire an’ family go hand in hand,” She drawls lazily, internally annoyed by the fact he’s mentioning the scars she’s grown a tad lazy about keeping hidden. Can’t be picky about clothes in the apocalypse, after all. Besides, everyone’s seen Jesse’s scars, man wears them like a fuckin’ warning sign to leave him the fuck alone. Like he’s telling the whole world it can’t do shit to him that ain’t already been done. 

He squints at her and she can see Daryl’s resemblance to his older brother far more clearly when he does that, “Y’all Claires are all kinds of fucked up, ain’tcha?”

She blinks slowly at him, “Ain’t sure a Dixon should be the one throwin’ stones.”

Daryl ain’t told her everything. He’s told her ‘bout some of the bad shit, back when they traded stories when hunting or in his perch. A burnt up momma in return for a hanging momma. One drunk asshole Daddy for another. Staying out of the house as much as possible. Getting the fuck out as soon as possible. Same stories, different details, different endings. They always glossed over some of the details, never talked about certain things, better to leave some things in the past. She knows enough to know Merle Dixon ain’t in a good position to be making comments about her blood. 

Daryl shushes them both, “Both y’all knock it off. We ain’t here ta screw ‘round.”

“Relax, Darylina, just makin’ conversation. ‘Sides, these chuckleheads ain’t goin’ nowhere if they know what’s good for ‘em,” Merle gives their hostages a nasty leer. 

Coretta crouches down, her back against the wall and her gun resting against her thigh as she listens to the brothers snap and snarl at each other for a few minutes. She and Hunter used to snap and snarl at each other like that, not often, but she remembers he was uncreative as hell with insults so she always came out on top when it came to who made who angrier. Too much time around Jesse, she figures. He’s always been able to come up with fifty insults for any single person, she just thanks fuck he’s been less of a prick than before the coke incident. 

Noah looks like he’s absolutely terrified as he interrupts the bickering brothers, “Um, I have a question?”

“What?” Both brothers snap at once. It’s fuckin’ eerie, perfectly in sync, same tone, same glare. Fuckin’ eerie. 

“What happens next? When we have Beth?” Noah sounds worried. Sounds scared of the answer. 

Coretta cuts in on instinct, before the brothers can scare the crippled kid more, “We move on. Atlanta ain’t home. Church ain’t home. We gotta keep movin’, hope that leg of yers can keep up.”

Noah blinks dark eyes at her, “Where do we go?”

Coretta shrugs, “Last I heard, D.C was the plan, why?”

“My family’s in Richmond. I need to get back to them,” Noah sounds so earnest telling her that. So much more like a kid than a teenager. 

“Think that’s on the way. Ain’t no reason we can’t take ya home, if Bossman gives the okay,” Coretta offers. 

“Don’t be makin’ promises ya can’t keep, Doll, ain’t anybody tell ya that?” Merle grouches at her. 

“Ain’t a promise, just a possibility. Ain’t like we got better ta do. Snake Oil’s full of shit an’ I know y’all know it,” She rolls her eyes as she thinks again of Eugene and his fuckin’ cure. Bullshit and nothin’ short of actually seeing it working will ever convince her otherwise. 

“Is D.C home for you?” Noah asks suddenly, “Beth mentioned a prison once, I think.”

“Ain’t never been ta DC. Home’s long gone for all of us. Just the way of things. Did have a prison, was almost home for a bit. It’s gone too,” She shrugs carelessly. She liked the prison, but like every other home she’s ever had, it’s gone. Destroyed beyond repair and she isn’t grieving over it. Just walls and a roof, nothing to miss really. Nothing they can’t find somewhere else. 

“So why go?” Noah sounds baffled. 

“Just doin’ as Bossman says,” Coretta drawls when neither Dixon seems interested in answering the kid. Daryl’s been damn near silent most of the time, except for when Merle gets him into an argument, too focused on getting Beth and Carol back to talk. 

Rick’s back before any further conversation can take place and things happen fast from there. They’re marching the hostages out single file. Her and and Merle and Sasha and Daryl putting down walkers as Rick leads them all to the hospital. The closer they get, the tenser it is. Being out in the open, being exposed, it makes everyone twitchier than they normally are. Noah limps alone beside Tyreese as they bring the rear up. 

Walking into a fuckin’ abandoned hospital is weird. Walking into a semi-abandoned hospital in the apocalypse is weirder. Her group don’t go to hospitals often, not on runs. Too high a risk for what amounts to very little reward, most hospitals got cleared of medicine along ago and without Hershel, they don’t want to get the wrong meds and kill someone. So being in one again is freaky and surreal and Coretta don’t like it one fuckin’ bit. 

When they walk through a pair of double doors and are greeted by the sight of a bunch of people in cop uniforms with Carol in a wheelchair and Beth behind them, Coretta feels something ease in her. They’re there, in front of them and so very alive. Even if they’re banged up. Even if Carol is in a wheelchair and Beth’s got stitches all over her damn face. Their people are here and alive and they’re gonna get to leave with them. 

The woman that steps forward must be Dawn. She’s got a blank face, dead eyes, and a hard line for a mouth. She looks like the world’s hollowed her out of everything good and filled her back up with unhappiness. Coretta would have pitied her before the world ended. She’d seen eyes like that on people before and they’d all had shit hands dealt to them and limited ways of playing those hands. This is the new world though, and pity isn’t part of this world. Not for strangers. 

The woman’s voice is as empty as her eyes, but it’s got a hard quality to it, just enough to suggest she’s got some kinda feelings left, “One of our people for one of yours.”

Rick nods sharply and gestures towards the first of their hostages, the big guy who’s name she doesn’t remember who kept silence damn near the whole time. Merle drags him forward as one of the hospital cops pushes Carol’s wheelchair to them. Carol is smiling a tired smile as Rick helps her up out of the wheel chair and Coretta’s eyes hunt for any visible injuries but if there’s any they’re covered by clothes and Carol isn’t giving it away. 

When Merle takes the girl hostage forward and they get Beth, Coretta watches in silence as Rick hugs the girl before ushering her behind him to stand near Daryl. They still have one hostage, the one she shot. Rick gestures for Merle to help the crippled dumbass forward and says, doesn’t ask, “Here’s your last man. We’ll be going now.”

The Dawn woman’s eyes narrow and Coretta’s just knows she’s about to say some dumb shit. She’s right, the woman’s voice is a even colder than before when she speaks, “And my ward? Noah?”

“Three people for you, three for us,” Rick retorts and his jaw is set with the grim stubbornness that means he’ll fight them right here in this narrow ass hallway if it comes to it. 

“My officers risked their lives looking for him. One was shot. Noah is my ward, you don’t have a claim to him,” Dawn is seemingly oblivious to the nervous looks her people are sending her or the increasingly dangerous ones she’s getting from Coretta’s people. 

“The boy wants to go home, you don’t have a claim either. You have your three officers back, let that be enough,” Rick’s voice is hard and dangerous. Coretta sees that red handled machete coming down in the dark all over again for a moment. 

Noah starts to speak, starts to limp forward, and Coretta’s mouth moves before she’s thinking and her voice sounds as sharp as the machete she was just picturing, “Boy, ya take one fuckin’ step towards ‘em an’ I’ll cripple yer other leg. _Don’t_ fuckin’ test me.”

Noah freezes the same way she once made a possum freeze by startling it badly enough when she stepped out onto her lawn one night for a smoke. His eyes are round and unsure and he’s glancing from her to Rick to Beth to Dawn. Rick is the one to break the tense silence, “We are leaving now. You’re not going to stop us. If you try, I promise _you will not win.”_

Dawn’s eyes are sharp and narrowed now and she’s very clearly weighing her chances of winning. Very clearly not going to budge. The hostages had said Dawn can’t stand looking weak, can’t afford to. She’s got the look of someone who’s pride is getting the better of them. She’s speaking again and Coretta wonders if Rick would be pissed if she just put a bullet in the woman’s head, “You can leave. _Without_ Noah.”

Merle drawls real low and mean, “Negotiations are through, Titless, so I fuckin’ dare ya ta keep playin’.”

Coretta’s not watching Dawn anymore though. She’s watching the people behind her. They look increasingly uneasy. Shifting around and side eyeing each other and that ain’t a good sign. Not for Dawn. It’s clear they don’t wanna fight for some crippled kid who don’t even wanna be here. Clear they don’t like the road this is heading down. They don’t want this fight. They don’t want this leader, the hostages had told them that much. 

What happens next is in slow motion. Dawn orders her officers to raise their guns. Coretta’s people respond in kind, Daryl pulls Beth behind him. Dawn’s pulling her gun up and Rick’s got his revolver up and a bullet flies. Just one. It’s the female hostage they’d taken who fires it and the bullet isn’t for a single one of Coretta’s people. It’s for Dawn. Watches a massive exit wound appear in the woman’s head and having blood and brain matter splattering all over the floor and their feet and a little on Rick’s face is shocking in the way that makes everything freeze instead of speed up. 

The thud of the body hitting the tile speeds time back up again and everything is silent for a moment before the woman who shot Dawn raises her hands in surrender and her voice is almost pleading as she orders, “Guns down. It was just about her. You can go.”

There’s silence for a moment as Rick stares the woman down before he nods once, sharply, and orders their family out the door. They back out, eyes on the hospital people until they’re through the doors and running as fast as they can, Tyreese practically carrying Noah so the boy doesn’t fall behind. They don’t stop running until they make it out of the prison and into the cleared out area in front of it. Then Coretta’s watching Daryl hug Beth Greene like she’s a ghost come back to life as a person instead of a walker and Beth looks just as thrilled to see him. Coretta just stands between Merle and Carol and watches the display until a fuckin’ fire truck rolls up and Maggie starts screaming her sister’s name in joy. Coretta don’t much believe in happy endings, not in real life, but this is a pretty good way to end their little day trip to Atlanta. 


	83. Chapter 83

The church is over run because the fuckin’ priest ran off to go check out the school the cannibal assholes ate Bob’s leg at. Her babies nearly got ate because of him. The damn dogs nearly got killed too. And Jesse damn near murdered the priest for it. Michonne had to separate them. A sword is a good way to get Jesse to stop beating Gabriel to death apparently. They’re heading to Richmond now. Noah’s family was in a damn community apparently and Beth promised to get him there anyway and little miss Beth has apparently gotten a set of balls because she practically orders everyone to load up into the cars and point them to Richmond. Since it turns out Coretta was right and Eugene is full of shit, which nearly got him killed by Abraham, no one has better ideas. So to Richmond they go. 

Everyone is piled into either the fire truck or one of the few cars they find. Over twenty people means they need a caravan or they have to walk. They get the new cars working, Jesse gets permanently banned from being in a confined space with Gabriel, and they go. She’s in the car with her sons and the Dixons while Jesse drives behind them, Carol, Mika, Sasha and Tyreese squished into the worn out car with him. She feels bad for them. Jesse’s driving is as chaotic as hers it. There’s a reason no one normally lets either of them drive. People get car sick sometimes when they drive. Better he focus on driving though, than how to make Gabriel’s murder look like an accident. Better to keep her and Jesse apart until they both cool down over it so they don’t plot together. 

The dogs are snoring in the floorboard and Coretta’s using the middle console as a foot rest while her boys nap on either side of her. Keston is filthy. He needs to get dipped in a river at least. Mason’s face keeps drawing her attention. That cut on his face drives her up a wall a little. He shouldn’t have had to do what he did. Shouldn’t have a scar forever memorializing it. It cuts through his eyebrow and narrowly misses his eye. It’s jagged where it kinda skips over the bridge of his nose. Comes sharply down in a near perfectly straight line from his cheekbone to his jaw after that. It’s still an angry red line, but scabbed over and probably gonna start itching soon. Scabs always do, especially on the face. Carol did a good job keeping infection from setting it. 

It’s gonna take weeks to get to Richmond. They can’t stop at gas stations anymore and have to constantly watch for people and herds and places to find food and shelter. It’s gonna be a long trip and Coretta knows they’ll end up walking at least a little. She doesn’t think anyone has a full tank of gas and she doubts that fire truck gets good mileage. 

“Who’s the Tara girl?” Merle drawls suddenly from the passenger seat, “Every time someone from our group talk ta her she looks like she wants ta go bury herself alive.”

Coretta tilts her head to look up at the ceiling and thinks. She hasn’t really talked to the new girls. Tara and Rosita. Rosita seems chill. Kinda reminds her of Maria in temperament. Tara is another matter. She seems nice. Probably is nice. But she’s oddly closed off. Coretta yawns and shrugs, “Dunno. Seems tight with Maggie an’ Glenn though.”

Merle hums and looks at Daryl, “Y’know anythin’ ‘bout her? Know ya hear more than ya say.”

Daryl doesn’t say a word for a minute before grunting and nodding once, “Was at the prison when it fell. Glenn told me.”

Coretta can do the math easily enough and her voice is utterly calm when she speaks, “I’ll kill her.”

“Ya ain’t gonna do shit, woman. She’s one of us now. Said she ain’t even fired a shot at the prison,” Daryl retorts with a warning look in the rearview mirror at her. 

“Doll’s gone a little wild, Darylina. Think that’s her new favorite solution ta problems,” Merle snickers. 

“Ain’t my favorite, but it’s the simplest,” Coretta hates killing people. But these days, it’s a good way to end an issue. 

“I dunno, ya looked pretty fuckin’ satisfied when that man’s face was in the fire,” Merle looks back at her with a mean grin. 

Coretta tries to ignore the fact she can still smell burning flesh when she thinks about that and meets Merle’s gaze steadily, “Somethings are better off ashes.”

They hit a pothole and Coretta nearly gets head butted when Mason wakes up from his nap like he’s been electrocuted. His blue eyes are huge and wide and his hands are clutching the kiddy bow and he’s looking around like he’s expecting a threat any second now. Coretta sighs a little and pulls him back into her side, “Just a pothole, baby, ain’t nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”

Mason is wide awake now and he relaxes after a moment before saying, “Momma, I killed Lizzie.”

Coretta kisses his head, “I know, baby.”

“She was gonna kill Mika,” He’s rubbing the cut on his face as he talks. 

“I know, ya did what ya had ta,” Coretta assures him. She hates that he had to do that, but there’s nothing she can do about it. 

“But ya said ta do whatever I gotta ta keep me an’ Keston alive. Ya ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout Mika,” Mason sounds frustrated. 

“Mika’s family now, ain’t she? Same as everyone else. Ya keep family safe,” Coretta points out. 

“But that means Lizzie was family too,” Mason mutters, “Even if she were crazy.”

“She was gonna kill her sister. Ain’t a crime ta stop it. Ya did the right thing,” Coretta tries, “Like when ya asked me ya help Miss Sophia out.”

“Sophia still died an’ Mika ain’t talkin’ no more, momma,” Mason sounds like he wants to cry, like he’s holding it back as hard as he can. 

“Sophia still gotta live longer than she might’ve an’ Mika’s gonna be okay. Gotta give her time,” She makes her voice firm, tries to will him to believe her. 

Daryl pipes up from the front seat, “Lizzie was gonna hurt her family. Ya ain’t do nothin’ wrong stoppin’ it. Mika’ll be fine.”

Mason is silent for awhile before saying in a tiny voice, “Killin’ her was easy. Like killing a rabbit.”

Coretta’s lips press together. She knows what he means. In the moment, when it’s happening, it’s easy. People die easy. They die from all sorts of things. It’s not the killing that’s the hard part. It’s living with it after. She don’t know how to explain that to her son though much less how to make it okay. Weren’t no parenting books for this. So, she just pulls him tighter into her side and rests her head against his, settling for saying softly, “Ya did what ya had ta. That’s all.”

Mason doesn’t say anything else, just stares out the window at the passing trees and walkers. His questions effectively kill the conversation now that he’s not talking anymore. It leaves a heavy atmosphere in the car and no one seems like they what to try and lighten it. 

Eventually their caravan pulls into a neighborhood a few hours before nightfall and they set to work scavenging a few houses for food before settling down in one of the houses towards the center of the neighborhood. 

Merle keeps his word about finding her new clothes and when he walks into the house they’re settling down in for the night, he throws a small pile of clothes at her and tells her to get changed. She slips off to one of the trashed bedrooms, all the blankets and bed covers had been taken by the group for the night, and is nearly giggling at how happy she is to finally be able to change. 

Merle did well, she’ll give him that. The plain blue shirt is a little big, the sleeves a little long, but it’s fine, even if it covers the now bloodstained and burnt bracelet Daryl had given her so long ago. She snickers at the sight of the sports bra and underwear he’s found. She can’t imagine he liked getting her those, still, they’re clean and about her size and so she won’t tease him over it. The pants are baggy, not too long, just baggy. She’s pretty sure they’re supposed to be, if she remembers right that was some kinda style some chicks were going for before the world went up in flames. She just makes sure her belt is tightened enough to keep them where she wants them. She grins at the last item. A fuckin’ leather jacket. Like the rest, it’s a bit large, but it’s warm and the black leather is soft and it very much reminds her of the one Wade used to have, she liked to steal it from him from time to time. He’d always bitched about it but she remembers how much he liked seeing her in it. Coretta supposes Merle made damn good on his agreement to find her something nice. Coretta’s humming happily as she checks herself over in the mirror. Her hair is knotted in places and it needs a good wash, and she’ll probably have to cut the hair band she’s using to keep it in a ponytail out, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. At least her clothes are clean again. 

She feels so much better now that she’s in something not covered in dirt and blood and gore. She’s never been picky about clothes so long as they’re clean. It makes her feel a bit more like a person than an animal. When she comes back into the room and settles down beside Daryl, Beth is singing a quiet tune Coretta doesn’t recognize while Jesse glares daggers at Gabriel from the opposite side of the room. Mason and Keston are cuddled up to the dogs under a blanket and Mika is huddled into Carol’s side while Judith cries in Rick’s arms. 

Coretta checks her bow over to distract from her hunger, they don’t have enough food tonight for everyone to eat their fill, so the kids get full meals while everyone else settles for dividing the leftovers up. A barely quarter serving of canned corn and a few olives from a jar isn’t much in terms of dinner, but it’s better than nothing and Coretta doesn’t complain. Tomorrow, maybe they’ll be able to hunt. Finish scavenging the neighborhood before heading back out. She thinks they’ll have to. She would smoke to take the lingering edge of hunger away, but it’s already dark out and she don’t wanna smoke with her kids so close to her. Don’t need to be fuckin’ their lungs up too. 

She settles for leaning against Daryl’s shoulder as Merle starts talking about some bar fight he got into. Songs and stories. That’s about the only entertainment their group gets. Which means when Beth sings or Merle starts talking about some of the dumb shit he’s pulled, everyone there and awake listens. Just how it is. 

Daryl is warm against her side, even through the leather jacket, and he’s never been bothered by her leaning against him, if anything, he seems to like the contact even if he doesn’t show it. He’s breathing deep and slow and when she glances at his face, his eyes are sharp and glancing at every movement and in the direction of every noise. Keeping watch, even with over twenty other sets of eyes around him to watch too. 

He must feel her eyes on him because he looks over at her and she can see the way his eyes flick over the bruises on her face and neck, some more faded than others. He ends up grabbing one of the blankets they’d taken from the beds and pulling it over both of their shoulders with a muttered, “Don’t need ya freezin’.”

Coretta smiles a little, “Yer the one that don’t wear sleeves. Ain’t gonna be me that freezes first.”

She can see the corners of his lips twitch up a little and knows he’s amused, “Smart ass.”

“Ya love it,” She counters, “Think we’ll have time ta hunt tomorrow? Gonna need food.”

Daryl shrugs against her, “Rick knows the group need food, we’ll get time.”

Coretta hums a little, “That’s good. That’s real good. Ain’t quite ready ta eat the dogs.”

“Ain’t gonna eat them dogs,” Daryl mutters back, “Red’s good for huntin’ even if Molly-dog is useless an’ eats dead people.”

“She eats livin’ people now too, when the mood strikes her,” Coretta drawls quietly. 

“I ain’t eatin’ somethin’ that’s been eatin’ people,” Daryl shakes his head, “She’s stayin’ off the damn menu.”

“Mason’ll be relieved,” She shifts and wriggles until she’s sitting between his legs and leaning against his chest, blanket pulled tight around them and his crossbow leaning against his leg, bolt in place and ready to fire. 

“Hell ya doin’?” Daryl grouses out even as his free hand comes around to rest on her stomach under the blanket. 

“More comfortable this way,” Coretta leans her head back against him and she can feel his breathing against her hair, “Shame we ain’t been able ta be alone yet.”

“Yeah?” Daryl says against her head after a moment. 

“Sure is, miss bein’ able ta have ya ta myself,” Coretta grins wickedly even though he can’t see it and her voice drops a little lower so no one else can hear, “Miss havin’ ya inside me too.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything at first, but his hand slides under her shirt and she twitches involuntarily at the feeling of his calloused fingers on her bare skin, “Got a filthy mind, don’tcha?”

“Ain’t my fault, Dixon, was planning ta defile the church, but that went out the damn window,” Coretta drawls back. 

That gets a small huff of laughter out of him, “In front of God an’ everyone?”

“Just God. Everyone else can fuck right off,” Coretta laughs back quietly, “We got a couple rooms to choose from here, y’know.”

Daryl’s thumb brushes the underside of her breasts through her sports bra and she can feel him get a little harder against her back, “An’ ya wanna put one ta use.”

“Feels like yer down,” She breathes back as his fingers tweak one of her nipples through her sports bra. 

Daryl doesn’t say anything back, but once it’s darker and everyone is settled down and asleep except for Rick, who’s set up by the front door and entirely focused on keeping watch, Daryl withdrawals his hand from where it’s been playing with her breasts and pushes her off his carefully. Coretta watches him stand up and put a finger to his mouth, barely visible in the darkness, and his hand comes down to tap her shoulder while his head jerks toward the direction of the bedrooms. 

With a careful glance towards her boys to check they’ll be fine for a little bit, she stands and quietly follows Daryl, who takes his crossbow with them, to the bedroom furthest back. No one notices, except probably Rick, but he doesn’t do anything as they disappear down the hallway and into the room. As soon as the door clicks closed, Daryl is pulling her to him and and covering her mouth with his. Coretta’s not even thinking before her arms are around his neck and she kisses him back with just as much enthusiasm. His hands are on her hips and he’s walking her to the edge of the bed like that. When the back of her knees hit the bed, she falls back on it and drags him down with her. He manages to catch himself with his hands by her head before he accidentally crushes her with his weight. Coretta’s mouth works up and down his neck and her hands are working on his belt at the same time and she can feel him tugging her belt off and yanking her pants down much quicker than she manages his. 

His hands are pushing her new jacket off and he pulls her up into a sitting position long enough to yank her shit and sports bra up and over her head and then his mouth is on her breasts and his calloused hands are running up and down her sides frantically, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling or checking for injuries, before one goes between her legs and the other grips her ass. Coretta’s hands work their way under his shirt and she sighs in pleasure as she feels his fingers run through her folds carefully before pressing into her. She knows he don’t like taking his shirt off around her, but she wants to feel his skin against hers and his clothes are dirty, so she risks his irritation as his fingers keep sliding in and out of her and tugs hopefully on his shirt. 

Daryl freezes above her and his hand stills. Coretta waits for him to pull back, for him to take her hands away waits for him to remind her that it stays on. She wants all of him, doesn’t want him hiding from her, but she wants him happy too. If he’s happier not taking it off, she won’t push again. He does pull away after a moment and she can see him looking down at her in the dark, mouth pressed thin and she knows his eyes are narrowed down at her. She speaks softly, “Ain’t gotta hide from me, y’know. But it’s alright if ya do.”

Daryl doesn’t say a word back, but after a moment he sits up between her legs and takes his vest and shirt off as quickly as possible, like he wants to get it over with before he changes his mind. Her eyes are well adjusted to the dark now and she can make out the planes of his chest and stomach before he covers her body with his again and one of his hands goes between her legs again and the other tangled into her hair to tilt her head up and his mouth meets her again. He’s kisses her hard now, like he’s trying to get every single kiss he can before it’s over. 

She’s arching against him as his fingers find her clit and she manages to get one of her hands between them and around his hardening cock. She feels him thrust into her hand and his fingers move faster on her clit. Her other hand is holding onto the back of his shoulder and she can feel raised lines under her fingers and knows exactly what they are. She can feel him tense up at the feeling of her touching them and she breaks the kiss to breathe, “Whatever yer thinkin’, know these don’t change anythin’. Yer still ya an’ I still want ya just as much as before. Always gonna.”

Daryl just presses his face into her neck and she can feel him mouthing words against her skin. She can’t make out what he’s saying, but she thinks that’s alright, thinks they’re okay, considering he’s making circles on her clit still and thrusting into her hand and when she gets one leg hitched over his hips he pressed even closer to her. 

When the tension starts to coil in her stomach, she’s careful to keep her nails from digging into his back, she doesn’t want to hurt him, isn’t sure if those scars make him more tender there or if they numb him out instead, but she doesn’t wanna risk causing him pain, the same way he’s been careful not to suck on the skin of her neck where her bruises are. She’s murmuring quiet, nonsensical things into his ear and when the tension finally releases, she has to turn her head and bury her face in his hair so she doesn’t make a sound. Instead she shakes and shudders under him and arches up against him like a bowstring that’s been pulled back. She feels his cock sink into her at the same time she breathes his name into his ear and it makes his name turn into a moan.

He stays like that for a moment, buried deep inside her, like he’s trying to hold himself together. He’s breathing hard into her skin and she feels his teeth graze her shoulder before he pulls back as far as he can without pulling out completely and slams back into her. It yanks a sharp gasp from her and there’s very little she can do except hold on as he fucks her into the mattress. Her fingers dig into his back and her legs are tight around him and she’s doing her best to keep quiet. Doing her best not to draw anyone’s attention to the room their in. 

He’s not going fast, not yet, he’s deliberately pulling out as far as he can and slamming back into her over and over, like he’s trying to make her beg him to speed up. She can hear him, saying her name under his breath, saying how tight she is, how fuckin’ good she feels. Her name and praise and the occasional curse as he picks up speed. Coretta’s managing to stay quiet, to keep her moans soft and her voice a whisper as she says her own praise back, his name, how much she needs him, how good he feels inside her, all sorts of things that she’s barely aware of saying as he keeps fucking her, keeps stretching her and burying himself in her. 

She’s pressed as tight as she can against him and his body blocks out anything but him from her vision, and it doesn’t matter that they’re dirty, that they’re squatting in an abandoned house or that their group just down the hall. She wants him and she wants this and she’s missed him so fuckin’ badly and they need this. When his hips start to stutter against her, she whines low in her throat in weak protest even as she relaxes her legs enough to let him pull out. She can feel him come, sticky and hot on her inner thighs and her pussy. She doesn’t move right away, her arms and legs still wrapped around him even as he has to brace on his elbows to keep from crushing her. She’s not thinking as she kisses his face, his cheeks, his throat, his mouth, his forehead, everywhere she can reach. She’s fuckin’ missed him and the idea of letting him go right now is not one she likes. 

Eventually, though, he does pull back, still breathing hard, and pulls his pants back on. She sits up and stretches, as much as she wants to stay here with him and do it again, they have to be near the group, near the boys, in case something happens. Daryl bends to catch her mouth again in another kiss before he pulls his shirt back on and grabs his vest, “Gotta get back, can’t stay here forever.”

“Wish we could,” She murmurs even as she finds her sports bra on the bed in the dark and pulls it on before pulling her shirt on. Daryl finds her boots and pants and hands them to her once she’s standing up. Her legs feel a bit like jello and she has to use a random pillow case on the floor to wipe his come off her legs, but she eventually manages to get dressed. 

She pulls her leather jacket back on as Daryl picks his crossbow back up and leads her back to the living room. She ends up using his thigh as a pillow while he sits against the wall, blanket pulled over her even though she tries to get him to take it instead. She knows he’s probably gonna barely sleep tonight, the crossbow beside him and the fact he’s sitting up telling her that clearly enough. One of his hands works knots carefully out of her hair as she starts to fade into sleep and she decides this is a good way to spend an apocalypse. Her kids are safe and she’s warm and Daryl is here and this is good. This is real good and they’re gonna be alright.


	84. Chapter 84

It’s takes them a week and a half to reach Richmond. They’ve had to switch cars multiple times. The fire truck is long gone and They’ve already had to walk for awhile here and there. They’re all exhausted and paranoid and they just wanna get Noah home so they can see if his little community is still standing. 

They stop a few miles off from it, Rick is gonna take a few people to go check it out before wasting even more gas and energy without knowing if it’s worth it. So they set up camp, string cans around the site and wait. Beth insists on going with Rick, Michonne, Tyreese, Glenn, and Noah. Maggie raises hell over it, but ultimately the little blonde gets to go. Everyone else hangs back. The kids stay near the cars in case they need to bug out quick, Gabriel sits nervously near them and Carl entertains the baby in the passenger seat of one of the cars. Abraham, Jesse, and Merle are operating as guards while everyone else looks for water or food nearby. Coretta tells her boys to stay in the camp, orders Molly-dog to stay too and calls Red over. If she’s lucky, he’ll pick up the scent of something good nearby. 

Daryl falls into step beside her as she alternates between looking for tracks and watching Red sniff around. Daryl manages to shoot three squirrels as they walk, with over twenty people, three squirrels ain’t nowhere near what they need, but it’s a start. It’s better than nothing. Red starts baying like a fuckin’ lunatic around the time Daryl gets a fourth squirrel and Coretta’s following the hound dog without a thought. That’s a good sound. Might attract walkers, but they’re far enough away from camp it’s fine. That sound means something worth eating is at the end of whatever trail the dog’s picked up. If they’re unlucky, it’ll be a rabbit if they’re lucky it’ll be anything bigger than a rabbit. Anything big enough to feed the group if Noah’s community falls through. A hog, maybe. That would be nice. A small one would do just fine. 

They do get lucky, real lucky. Half a mile of following the dog and four dead walkers later Coretta’s got her bow up and an arrow pointed at a deer that’s leg is fucked up and it ain’t able to do much more than hobble as Red starts nipping and hollering at it. Coretta breathes once and exhales, releasing the arrow as soon at the deer— a buck, young, small antlers and a shallow body, maybe two or three years old if she had to guess— turns enough to give her a clear shot to that spot right behind its shoulder where her arrow can hit its lung and heart. She misses the heart, she knows that as soon as the arrow hits, because the deer makes it about fifteen feet from where it was hit before going down. Heart shots make ‘em jump a little then drop. Must’ve just caught it’s lung. 

Red is licking the fur on the deer’s hip when she and Daryl make it over. She’s grinning wide and even Daryl’s got a small smile on his face. This is good. This’ll feed everyone. They don’t bother field dressing it here. They need all the food they can get for the group. Which means taking everything so they don’t have to take back only the biggest parts. She pulls her arrow out and wipes it off on the bottom of her pants before tucking it back in with her other arrows after checking it’s not broken. Then they have to haul the damn deer back and bucks are around one-hundred-fifty pounds, which when it’s dead weight, feels like a fuckin’ ton. Field dressing it would make it lighter, would be easier, but it’s what it is. Better to get to to the group then cut it up. Less time out in the woods without eyes while they work. Daryl’s got most of the buck’s weight, his arms definitely ain’t for show, as they each grab a pair of legs and get to work. 

It takes them a long ass time to get back, must have been hunting further out than Coretta realized, and Red ambles along beside them contentedly as they go. When they do get back, It’s to unhappy faces. Carol is the one that explains, “The Community is gone. They’re looking for anything worth salvaging right now.”

Daryl grunts as he tosses his squirrels towards Merle and sets to work gutting the deer. Coretta helps where she can, but Daryl is working fast as fuck and she knows it’s because he’s in a mood. Probably over coming all the way here to find nothing instead of settling somewhere safe. Molly-dog and Red are eagerly eating the huge amount of organs tossed their way. They’re gorging themselves as the deer gets cut up and Carol’s got the fire going and meat is getting cooked as soon as it comes off the deer. What’s left they hang up a tree, out of the way of animals. They aren’t lingering long enough to dry anything, but they’ll cook it through the night, eat as much as they can before they need to leave tomorrow. Take some leftovers for the road. Squirrel and deer. Not a exactly a diverse feast, but it’s more than enough food for twenty-two people, since the baby don’t really count considering the meat will probably be too tough for what little baby teeth she’s got poking through. It’s a shame they won’t be able to dry the meat. The deer would feed them for a good while if they could. A week at least. Damn shame they aren’t sticking around. 

The meat is cooking and Coretta has to swallow a grimace at the smell. Eve since burning that man alive, the smell of cooking meat makes her wanna hurl. Not constantly, but burning a person smells terribly like cooking meat and she hates it. So she keeps upwind of it. Tries not to think about it. 

The nausea the smell induces isn’t going away, but she ain’t about to throw up. It ain’t that bad. She just takes slow sips of her water and watches her boys try and get Mika to talk to them. It’s been weeks since the girl has made a peep and it worries everyone. She don’t even scream when walkers startle her anymore. It’s just a constant silence and an unhappy face. Coretta’s injuries are healed up and her stitches been cut out by Maggie and even Mason’s face is about healed, scarred over but healed. Still, Mika is silent. It’s worrying, but nothing seems to make the girl wanna talk. 

The walkie talkie in Carol’s hands starts going. Rick. He sounds frantic. Sounds like something’s gone way fuckin’ wrong. Coretta can’t make much out but she understands enough. Something happened, someone’s hurt and the kids shouldn’t see it. Sasha shouldn’t see it. That tells her exactly who it is. Only one person Sasha wouldn’t be able to handle seeing really hurt and that’s Tyreese. 

“Sasha?” Carol’s voice is sweet and causal, “I think I’m going to take the kids on a walk, not very far, but if you could help me keep an eye out for trouble, I’d appreciate it.”

Sasha’s checking her gun over and glances up in surprise, “Um, yeah, alright. Coretta, it’s fine with you?”

Coretta shrugs, “Go for it, food ain’t gonna be ready for a bit longer. Y’all need me ta come?”

Carol shakes her head, “No, I think we can keep them out of trouble. Can you watch Judith though? She should stay in case she starts crying.”

Coretta doesn’t look at Sasha as she stands up, “Sure thing, Carl, lemme hold the little ray of sunshine while ya go on yer nature walk.”

Carl walks over and hands her the baby, eyes her and nods once, “She’ll probably nap soon.”

“Even better she ain’t goin’,” Coretta drawls and bounces the baby in her hip with a smile before looking at her boys, “Don’t be givin’ Miss Carol or Miss Sasha any trouble, y’all hear? I’ll tan yer hides.”

“Yes, momma,” Mason and Keston chorus together as Mason grabs his kid bow and Keston tugs Mika’s hand until she follows the boys after Carol. 

As soon as Carol is out of sight, Merle demands more than questions, “Why we gettin’ the kiddos outta here?”

Coretta kisses Judith on the forehead and answers calmly, “Tyreese is hurt, that’s what it sounded like. They’re comin’ back.”

“Shit, ya hear how bad?” Daryl looks like he’s got half a mind to take a car and meet them halfway. 

“Shit’s hit the fan in a royally fucked manner if the pups shouldn’t see it,” Abraham answers promptly. 

“Considering the current state of things, it is likely that our friend has been bitten by one of the dead,” Eugene sounds like he’s reading from an encyclopedia as he speculates. 

Jesse snorts, “Shouldn’t be bringin’ him back then. Don’t need no walkers ta be in camp.”

“Fuck you, Claire, he’s one of us and people have survived walker bites before, my dad did,” Maggie snaps at him. 

“Yeah, cut his damn leg off ta do it. We ain’t exactly got the supplies ta save him at the fuckin’ moment, in case ya ain’t notice,” Jesse snarls back, “He’s as good as dead if he’s bit anywhere. Least we got the preacher man. Tyreese can get his last fuckin’ rites.”

Gabriel twitches a little at her brother’s mention of him. Since Jesse beat the ever loving shit out of the priest, the man’s avoided Jesse like the plague, which is understandable. Jesse ain’t always friendly at the best of times, once he decides he hates a person, he’s damn near impossible to have around them. Gabriel ends up not saying anything at all, just looks away like he’s hoping if he doesn’t make eye contact, Jesse will forget about him. 

Coretta ignores the chaos around her as Maggie tries to prepare for whatever injury Tyreese has, hopefully not a walker bite. Everyone is tense and waiting, but she just focuses on the baby in her arms, talking to her is a soft voice and bouncing her as she walks small circles around the camp. Judith isn’t as heavy as she should be, but none of them are anymore, so Coretta’s not surprised. At least they can eat tonight. Jesse has taken over watching the deer since Carol is gone keeping the kids and Sasha away from camp. 

Coretta’s hit by another wave of nausea as she passes downwind of the cooking meat and gags a little, she supposes she looks a little green because Tara catches her attention with a friendly, worried smile and small wave, “Do you need me to take her? You look like you don’t feel well.”

Coretta shakes her head and swallows the nausea, “Nah, I’m good, thank ya though.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’re gonna hurl,” Rosita pipes up and she’s eyeing Coretta like she doesn’t buy it for a second. 

“Yeah, don’t y’all worry, I’m fine,” Coretta smiles tightly and quickly moves back upwind of the fire. She need to quit thinking about the man she burnt alive. The smell is the exact same and it’s getting to her. Has been every time they cook meat. 

It’s easier, when Rick’s car pulls up, to focus on something other than her nausea. She holds Judith close to her as their people pile out of a blood soaked car. Tyreese isn’t with them. Beth’s front is covered in blood and she looks like she’s holding back tears, while everyone else getting out of the car looks either resigned or shell shocked. Coretta sighs into Judith’s hair. Twenty-one left that aren’t a baby. Shit. A useless trip and one more dead person. Ain’t exactly a morale booster. At least they’ll eat tonight. That’s something, she supposes. 


	85. Chapter 85

Rick is leading them to DC. There’s no cure, but there might be a chance, that’s what Michonne thinks. Coretta ain’t sure what kinda chance she means, but she’s not sure it really matters anymore. So long as they keep living, it doesn’t really matter where they’re going or why. She’s got her bag over her shoulders, what little her son’s had in their bags moved to hers so they don’t have to carry more than their water and Mason’s bow. They’ve been on foot since two of the cars ran out of gas and they hadn’t been able to find more gas or a working car. 

They walk in a loose circle, kids and those who aren’t fighters in the middle of the group. She’s beside Jesse who fiddles with the Compound bow he’d ended up keeping. She know he doesn’t like it much, the draw weight is too low in his opinion, he’d used a sixty-five pound draw weight when he’d hunt. Hers is forty pounds. So she figures it’s probably somewhere in between the two since she damn sure can’t comfortably draw it back. Still, it’s a compound bow and a nice one, so she knows he’s not gonna get rid of it. 

They’ve been on the road walking for two days now and already everyone is sick of it. They have to constantly detour looking for food or water or shelter or cars and it’s hotter than it should be for the end of summer. No one is happy. Truth is they’re all getting a little feral, have been since losing their home. A little less right in the heads. No one bickers, they don’t have the energy for that, but everyone’s got this look in their eyes. Like they’re a pack of dogs looking for their next meal or their next good fight. Suddenly Molly-dog and Red are the domestic ones and the people are the ones operating on instinct. Coretta would be more bothered if she didn’t know she was going the same level of wild as everyone else. 

They hit every house and car they pass, any supplies they can get, that they can carry, they take. They put walkers down like it’s little more than an after thought when they clear houses. She, Daryl, Jesse, even Beth go off into the woods hunting whenever the group finds a place to set up for the night. She takes Mason and Keston with her while Jesse disappears to hunt alone and Merle goes off to set snares. Beth has taken to following after Daryl. He’s teaching her to use his crossbow and Coretta’s not sure what to make of the little blonde babysitter holding a bow with a draw weight that’s probably more than Beth weighs. 

Coretta’s keeping one eye on the boys and one eye of the pig tracks she’s following and Daryl is patiently allowing Beth to practice tracking too. Coretta’s more focused on her kids learning and actually finding the pig sometime today and as such, she’s startled when Beth pipes up behind her, “Why don’t you use a crossbow, Coretta?”

She turns to eye the younger blonde, “Like compound bows. ‘Sides, was a bit cheaper ta afford.”

“Oh, can I try yours? To see the difference?” Beth sounds irritatingly hopeful. 

Coretta’s eyebrow raises, “Why’s it matter? Get good with a crossbow, maybe you’ll find one ya can pull back yerself.”

That gets her a stubborn look from the girl, “I want to learn. The more I know the better. That’s why it matters.”

Coretta’s eyes flick to Daryl for help but he just shrugs and takes over tracking the pig. No fuckin’ help. She sighs and looks at the girl, “Show ya sometime when we ain’t lookin’ for dinner. Practice at camp.”

“Oh, alright. It’s just, at camp, you’ve been acting kinda funny an’ I don’t wanna bother you then,” Beth sounds disappointed but still extremely positive. 

“Don’t mind. Ain’t been feelin’ well is all,” Coretta admits. She’s been keeping her distance when they make dinner. Trying not to get sick from the smell. 

“Are you getting sick? We should tell Rick, find medicine,” Beth starts up immediately as they walk. 

“Nah, s’all in my head. Medicine ain’t gonna help,” Coretta shakes her head to clear it of the image of skin bubbling and peeling on a screaming face. 

“Are you sure? We can find something if—“ Beth presses. 

“It’s fine,” Coretta cuts her off, not happy to be discussing this. She’s got her issues and Little Beth Greene should keep away from them. She ain’t Daryl. She ain’t gonna be near as tolerate of the girl’s nosiness as he is. 

Daryl curses up ahead of them and pulls her sons back behind him. He looks like he’s got half a mind to break something out of sheer frustration, “Fuckin’ sons of bitches. Fuck. Was gonna have a goddamn ham dinner tonight.”

Mason’s scowling fiercely from behind the man as she and Beth catch up to see the problem, “I hate walkers. Fuck ‘em all.”

Coretta narrows her eyes at the language but doesn’t disagree when she sees the pig they’d been tracking being torn apart by a few walkers. She’d told Mason he could only curse when he was real pissed off for a real good reason. Walkers eating their dinner is a good enough reason. She purses her lips and mutters, “Least we got the squirrels. Better than nothin’.”

Daryl sucks his bottom lip between his teeth before nodding, “Better than nothin’.”

They meet back up with Jesse and he’s not any luckier than they are in terms of hunting, a pair of scrawny rabbits to show for his efforts. He’s got a jug of water that needs boiling though. So at least there’s a water source nearby. They need that more than food. Water is almost always needed more than food. Thirst kills quicker than hunger after all. 

When they make it back to the house they’ve holed up in for the night, Coretta raises an eyebrow to see Red and Molly-dog have been tied up on opposite ends of the living room, “Why they tied up?”

“The canines have been, shall we say, amorous today and as such, to avoid unwanted litters, I took it upon myself to separate the couple in question until the mood passes,” Eugene states promptly. 

Coretta curses under her breath, Wade had been against fixing Red and fixing female dogs is more expensive so they’d always just kept Red separate from the girls when they went into heat. She’d managed it at the prison. Guess it’s a bit harder to deal with out here, “Thanks, Eugene. Ya actually manage ta keep ‘em from makin’ a litter or...?”

“Unfortunately, I was unable to prevent the first coupling, but I was able to efficiently keep it from reoccurring,” Eugene says decisively, “I do not know much about dog breeding habits, but it is my understanding the more breeding that occurs the larger the litter afterwards.”

Coretta offers a tight smile, “Well, thank ya. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Merle is snickering under his breath at the exchange as Coretta sets to work helping Jesse and Daryl skin what game they managed to kill. Two rabbits and six squirrels. Combined with the canned green beans and saltine crackers Michonne found in the house, it won’t be the worst meal. Even if it will be small. 

She separates out the guts into two piles and tosses them to each dog when they’re done working on cleaning the kills. Rick’s made a fire in the little fireplace the house has and as soon as the meat is set up to cook, Coretta goes to check out the rest of the house to avoid the smell. She picks through everything, cigarette dangling from her mouth as she looks through everything. Checks everywhere she can think of that people would stash anything. She finds a hairbrush and scissors and works on cutting the hair and out of her ponytail as she sits on the dirty bathroom counter with her feet in the sink. Even after it’s cut, it’s still tangled in her hair and it takes her an irritating amount of time and more than a little pain to get it out. Her hair looks like an absolute rat’s nest. Knotted and greasy and in need of about ten bottles of shampoo. She doesn’t have shampoo though, so she settles for working out as many knots as she can.

Jesse finds her and he sets a plate of squirrel chunks and green beans beside her before leaning against the wall and watching her work, “Still feel sick?”

Coretta tilts her head and blows smoke out, “Not right now.”

He nods a little and he’s quiet for a moment as he watches her work tangles out of her hair. Then he scratches the beard he’s got coming in and says quietly, “There’s this tea, momma drank it from time ta time. Some herbal thing. Say I made it for ya, would ya drink it?”

“Herbal tea? Guessin’ it’s pretty fuckin’ bitter,” Coretta raises an eyebrow and looks at him through the mirror, “What is it?”

“Mugwort, pretty common. Ain’t nothin’ great about it, but when Momma got sick like ya are she’d drink it, feel better after a couple days,” Jesse sounds awkward mentioning it, sounds like he’s not thrilled talking about momma. 

“Didn’t know momma was in ta herbal shit,” Coretta has no idea what the fuck mugwort is, but she’s pretty sure she’d’ve heard of it by now if it really worked. 

“Just this one. Daddy never knew ‘bout it. She only drank it every once in awhile, worked though,” Jesse’s eyes flick away when they meet in the mirror. She knows him well enough to know he’s hiding something based on that alone. 

“Ain’t never heard of mugwort,” Coretta says as she works a particularly stubborn knot out, “What’s the drawback?”

“Might cause ya ta have yer lady issues early. Least that’s what I remember happenin’,” Jesse shifts a little, “Only problem I know it causes.”

Coretta tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, “How many of momma’s miscarriages were actually abortions?”

Jesse blinks and she can tell by the slight widening of his eyes he knows she’s caught on to what he’s getting at, “Dunno, maybe two?”

“And ya think I need it,” She drawls calmly. 

“I think it’s better safe than sorry,” Jesse looks profoundly uncomfortable now, “Doubt ya need it, but the whole nausea thing is worryin’ me.”

She stops brushing her hair and puts her cigarette out in the sink by her feet, “Ya really think a pregnancy survived that damn illness back at the prison? Or any of the other bullshit since? ‘Sides, just some nausea, ain’t started throwin’ up yet.”

“Like I said, probably nothin’, just in case though, will ya drink it?” Jesse sounds like he’s ready to plead with her. 

“Ain’t even taken a test,” Coretta points out, “Seems like jumpin’ the gun.”

“Better that way. Won’t have ta know if ya just had yer lady issues or not,” Jesse counters, “This ain’t exactly an ideal time for ya ta have another one. Should only be worryin’ ‘bout the ones ya got.”

Coretta pops a piece of squirrel in her mouth and chews for a second before shrugging as she swallows, “I start throwin’ up, I’ll consider it, ‘sides think I’d have ta talk ta Daryl if it turns out I need it.”

Jesse wrinkles his nose at the mention of Daryl, “Dixon’s gonna want a test. Momma only drank this shit if she hadn’t already pissed on a stick. Think it made it easier for her. Never had ta know if it was needed or not.”

Coretta eats more of the plate he brought her and sighs, “I’ll think ‘bout it.”

Jesse nods a little, “Don’t wait too long. Sooner the better.”

Coretta swallows what she’d been eating and asks, “Why’d Momma take it?”

“She’d do it right before tryin’ ta leave Daddy. Sometimes she’d take us, sometimes she wouldn’t. Gave up when she had Hunter,” Jesse looks like he had to think real hard to answer that, like he’d buried the memories away. 

She hums a little and nods, “Gotcha.”

“Just think ‘bout it. Now ain’t the time an’ ya probably ain’t, but if you are, it’s better ya don’t have it. Can always make another later, when things are better,” Jesse is pleading now. 

“I burned a man alive. That’s why,” She blurts out, “Held him down in a fire an’ watched him get cooked an’ now cookin’ meat smells the exact same way that did.”

Jesse narrows his eyes, “If yer so sure, drink the tea an’ be done with it. Ain’t no one ever gotta know. I know it’s a secret ya can live with keepin’.”

Coretta hums, “Said I’d consider it. Now unless yer helpin’ get the knots outta my hair, go back ta the group.”

Jesse is gone as quickly as he came and Coretta goes back to eating as she works the knots out of her hair. Jesse’s paranoid as fuck and she knows it. Her fever damn near killed her and she was vomiting blood. Besides that, her and Daryl used condoms every time except once at the prison and he pulled out. Too soon for any worrying on the last time they fucked. They’re all stressed and starving on top of that. Coretta’s not interested in Jesse’s paranoia, but if it’ll shut him up she’ll drink the damn tea. Ain’t like she needs it. 

She gets her hair tied up in a bun using a hairband she finds behind a dresser in one of the bedrooms when she’s done getting tangled out and rejoins the group for the night. Jesse doesn’t say anything about it again that night, but she can feel her brother’s eyes on her when she settles down beside Daryl. She doesn’t mention to the conversation to Daryl, choosing instead to listen to Abraham tell some story about a camel that ate his keys once. 

Her boys eventually cuddle up to her and Keston insists on a song. Coretta’s not keen on singing anything in front of the whole group, not with the mood she’s been in lately, but she complies. She keeps her voice soft and tries to ignore it when the song attracts the attention of everyone else. Songs and stories, their new and only entertainment. She don’t like it, but Keston wants a song so she ignores it. _Slow dancing in a burning room, John Meyer._ One of her personal favorites. One of the last songs she managed to memorize before the world came to an abrupt halt, _“We’re goin’ down and you can see it too. We’re goin’ down, down and you know that we’re doomed. My dear, we’re slow dancing in a burning room.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and Comments are all extremely appreciated!


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